Starting a New Life
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: Tami Taylor is ready to start a new life in Philadelphia, but only because it's the life she's planned for herself. But what if the driver's wheel were suddenly yanked from her hands?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Tami Taylor rarely took naps, except for the first two years after each of her babies was born, because she couldn't take one without waking up groggy and confused. Groggy and confused was how she felt now as she blinked her eyes repeatedly. At last, the room began to come into focus.

The first thing she saw was the heart monitor, blipping out its green graph, and then the IV tube, coiled like a snake and falling free down toward her arm. She saw also the ventilator, took a sharp, natural breath, and felt the tube in her throat.

There was no one else in the room.

She struggled to remember where she was and how she had gotten here. There arose the distinct memory of packing Eric's game tape into boxes and then glancing out the window to see an inch of snow accumulated on top of the SOLD sign. They were preparing to put most of their possessions in storage. They hadn't found a house in Philadelphia yet, but they would soon be staying with Braemore's provost for a few days while they finalized their search. Eric had broken his school-year contract with East Dillon early so they could move in March. With some Internet research, Tami had already narrowed her list down to ten houses.

The subsequent events were harder to recall. Tami remembered feeling a sudden, sharp pain in her head, and Eric telling her to go lie down. After that was a blur of she didn't know how many hours or days: fever, sweating, stiffness, exhaustion…and then a shrill blast of sound that made her feel as if her head was going to explode.

She'd stumbled from the bedroom to find Gracie wearing her father's East Dillon coaching cap and blowing on his silver whistle. Tami had let loose on the girl in a torrent of raging words that brought Gracie Belle to tears. Eric scooped up the girl and hugged her close and looked at Tami with a a dozen emotions mingled in his eyes. Tami didn't remember all of his words now, but she remembered his tone: stern and determined. He said something like "I don't care if you think it's just a little flu" and "not yourself" and "doctor" and "NOW!"

She remembered him half lifting her into the front seat of his SUV, and the loud click of the seatbelt as he strapped Gracie into her booster seat. She remembered the snow coming down in big, wet flakes that couldn't last more than a day in Dillon.

And that was it. There was no memory after that moment.

Was she in Philadelphia? Dillon? Somewhere else?

She looked toward the open door of her room and saw a nurse staring at her in amazement. There was a shout and a shuffling of feet and a three people at her bedside, a flurry of questions she could not seem to answer, though she moved her mouth – Do you know your name? Do you know where you are? Do you know….do you know? Poking followed prodding, and then sleep followed tiredness, and then she awoke again to find her family doctor seated at her bedside, scribbling something on her chart.

"Dr. Martin?" she asked, feeling that she was now free of the ventilator, if not yet the IV. "Where am I?"

He flashed a light in her eyes and she shut them. "Follow the light," he ordered her, and she tried.  
>"Can you raise your left arm?"<p>

It took effort, but she managed. He asked her to do several other things, some of which she managed, and some of which she couldn't. She felt horribly weak, and her arms looked thinner than she remembered them. "Where am I?" she repeated.

"You're in a long-term care facility. What's your name?"

"My name? You've been my doctor for over five years. You ought to know my name!"

He smiled. "You don't usually expect that much mental alertness in these cases."

"What cases? Where's Eric? Why isn't he here?" Wouldn't he have stayed by her bedside when she was admitted to the hospital? Maybe he'd gone to get a coffee. Only, Dr. Martin had said she wasn't in a hospital, but in a long-term care facility. Wasn't that for old people?

"He's been called. He's on his way. But it's over an hour drive from San Angelo."

"San Angelo? What would he be doing in San Angelo? Why isn't he here? Where IS here?"

"You're in Dillon. This is where you were admitted before Coach Taylor got the job offer, and he wanted to keep you here, keep me as your attending. But he's head coach of the SAEU Saints. He's in summer training."

"The SAEU…WHAT?"

"San Angelo Episcopal University."

"My husband is head coach of the Pemberton Pioneers!" Tami insisted. "Or…well…he's going to be. This spring."

Dr. Martin took her hand in his own, looked at her in the eyes, and swallowed. "Tami…you've been in a coma for eighteen months."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Dr. Martin told Tami there had been five unexpected cases of spinal meningitis eighteen months ago. She was one of two people to end up in a coma. The other was Joe McCoy, and he pulled through in just three weeks. How that must have pained Eric, Tami thought, to see that man recover while his own wife continued to languish.

The cases of spinal meningitis had been a big story in Dillon and had even made the news in Dallas, Houston, and other large cities, where it was transformed into a "terrifying outbreak of a deadly disease."

When Dr. Martin stepped out of the room, Tami must have fallen asleep. Eric's lips on her forehead woke her. He kissed her nose, her lips, her cheeks, her chin…At first, she thought a stranger was kissing her, because of the rough hairs of his goatee, and she tried to jerk away, but she was too weak. Soon enough, though, the lips were familiar to her, and then the unmistakable voice, murmuring, "Thank God, Thank God, Thank God."

When his lips fell on hers again, she kissed him back until she felt faint with the effort, and eventually, in response to her slackening, he pulled away. There were tears in his eyes, pooling, but not overflowing. "They told me you only had a fifteen percent chance of waking up at this point."

Tami's eyes raked over him. He had on a blue coach's cap, with the letters SAEU on it, not the blue of the Cowboys, but a brighter blue, like the color of the Virgin Mary's cloak in so many paintings. His goatee was mostly dark, with a few flecks of gray, and neatly trimmed. He looked different - not precisely older, but somehow more mature. There was weariness at the edges of his eyes, wrinkles in his otherwise baby-smooth skin.

"Dr. Martin says it's a miracle you haven't lost any cognitive abilities," Eric went on as he sat down in the chair beside her bed, "but you're bound to be a little confused. He expects with the physical therapy, you'll be walking soon. I guess he told you all that." He stroked her cheek. "Oh, babe...I've missed you so much."

She couldn't say the same. She hadn't known they were apart. "What's this about you coaching S…C…E…" She looked at the letters on his cap.

"SAEU. San Angelo Episcopal University. Football program's pretty new. They had to clean house last year. The head coach got into some kind of sex scandal during spring training. Some of the assistants were involved - "

"- Like an orgy?"

He snorted. "Nah. But a party of some kind." He shook his head. "I don't know the details because I didn't _want_ to know the details. I don't think it was all that bad, but it's a Christian university, and if you work there, you've got to sign some paper pledging you won't engage in acts of moral turpitude."

"Or at least that you won't get caught."

Eric smiled tightly. "Yeah. Anyway, they fired half of the coaches, started over from scratch. Their quarterback used to play for me in junior high – you know, Johnny Morton – back in Odessa? He's a senior in college now."

She did _not_ remember Johnny Morton. Maybe her long-term memory wasn't all there.

"So I started as a QB coach during spring training. But the new head coach they hired left suddenly before the season started, and they just moved me up into the position. I did well enough that they've kept me on for another year. Season starts…" He glanced at his watch. "In fifteen days."

"What happened to the Pioneers?"

"I wasn't going to move you to Philadelphia in a coma. I tried to get back on with the Panthers, but I guess I burned my bridges pretty damn good. And then this job just fell from the sky."

"Where's Gracie?" Tami sensed the question was a sudden switch of the topic, but she was following her own erratic train of thought. Gracie would have recently turned five. She'd be starting Kindergarten this year.

"With the au pair." His southern drawl was pronounced on the "au."

"You have an _au pair_?" She was surprised he didn't just say nanny, but she was even more surprised that he would have one. He used to shake his head at people who had nannies. He didn't have a problem with day care, but he didn't think a parent should need someone around outside of work hours.

"Tami, I had to get some help. Your sister came out and stayed with me for a month, but you know I could only take that for so long."

Tami couldn't imagine him lasting even a month without her to run interference between him and Shelley. "But an au pair? How did you find her? Did you check her references, did you – "

"- Well I didn't pick her at random from Craig's List," he said with irritation.

She didn't know whether to be worried or relieved by his irritation. She'd been out of his life for eighteen months. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but they also say, "out of sight, out of mind." If he were waiting desperately for her to awake, shouldn't he be nothing less than completely grateful at this moment? On the other hand, if he could be naturally irritated with her, and not pretend he wasn't, then perhaps nothing significant had changed between them in all that time.

"She's a part-time student at SAEU," he continued. "She just turned twenty-one. She's been doing this sort of thing ever since high school. I called all her references. I did a criminal background check on her. I was careful. And she's really good with Gracie. She takes half her pay in room and board. She's got the guest bedroom in the new house. I needed someone to be there overnight when I was at the away games, or at conferences, late night meetings - "

"- Wait, you _bought_ a _new_ house?" Tami tried to sit up, but when she realized she didn't quite have the strength, she reached for the button on the bed and cranked it into a sitting position.

"In San Angelo," Eric answered. "You'll like it," he said in that soft voice he used for seduction. "It's got three bedrooms – all downstairs. Two and half baths, a nice, fenced-in backyard, a loft upstairs where I've got my office set up, a garage…" He smiled, "and his and hers closets."

"You bought a house without consulting me?"

His smile faded. "Well I couldn't precisely _consult_ you now could I? And we'd sold our old house before you…" He gestured to her in the bed. "I had to live somewhere. We stayed with Buddy for the first month, but his place is crowded, and, well…Buddy lives there. So I had to move us into the Extended Stay for the next month. Then I got the job offer. Made sense to buy a house where the job was. Shelley came and stayed for a month to help, just until I could find the au pair."

She smiled weakly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snip. It's just, you have to understand – "

"- I know. You've lost a year and a half of your life. It's got to be weird." He took her hand in two of his own. "But you're back. I'm here. Gracie's safe at home. I'll bring her to see you tomorrow. I wanted to see how you were first. Talk to her and preparer her for whatever she had to be prepared for. I didn't know…a year ago they told me, if you ever woke up, you might be…" He trailed off.

She might be what? A mental vegetable? Had he already written her off, assuming that, even if she awoke, she wouldn't be able to be a real wife to him?

He squeezed her hand. "But thank God you're not."

Tami was trying to wrap her mind around all these changes. It felt like as if it was just yesterday she was putting his game tape into boxes. But for him, it was eighteen months ago. For over a year now, he'd been coaching at a university she'd barely heard of and living in a house she'd never seen, with a twenty-one-year-old au pair she'd never met. "Is she pretty?"

His face broke into a great big smile. "Oh, Tami, she's gorgeous."

She pulled her hand away. He wasn't supposed to tell her that, not with such a big smile on his face, not while she lay here with serious bed head and no muscle tone and no make-up.

"Just like her mother."

"You know her mother?" Tami asked. She was beginning to wonder if maybe her mind wasn't quite functioning correctly.

"Intimately." He laughed. Then his laugh faded. "You a'ight? Your brain making connections?"

"I…don't know. I was asking if the au pair was pretty."

"I thought we were talking about Gracie."

Her mind felt like a ping pong ball. Now it was back on Gracie again, and her thoughts were not reassuring. "Eric, I'm worried. I've been gone thirty percent of her life!"

Eric took off his cap, draped it on his knee, and seemed to think for a while. "Yeah. You're right. You're pretty good at mental math for someone who got a C in Algebra." He took her hand again. "Gracie's missed you like mad. You haven't been replaced. Don't you worry about that. It's gonna be weird for a while…you two'll have to get reacquainted. But she's your daughter."

"I guess you and I will have to get reacquainted too. It feels like just yesterday to me, but you just went on living your life without me."

His hand slipped from hers and he sat back in the chair and sighed. "As best I could, yeah. What would you have had me do?"

"Nothing else," she admitted. "It's just…it's a little bit scary."

"I've been faithful. Is that what you need to hear?"

It was what she needed to _believe_. But if he hadn't been 100% faithful, if in his loneliness and his uncertainty over whether she was ever going to wake up again, he'd given into some temptation, it wasn't likely he would tell her now. She'd never doubted his fidelity before. Whatever ups and downs they'd had, she'd never doubted that. But eighteen months was a long time to go without any physical affection at all, when you didn't know if your spouse was going to live, when you wanted sex as often as he seemed to. And it didn't look like they'd be having it any time soon, while she was still staying here, recovering and learning to walk again. "When are they going to send me home?"

Home. To a house she'd never seen.

"They plan to monitor you here for the next two weeks, do some intensive physical therapy. You'll have to keep doing the therapy after you go home, but we'll get someone to come to the house."

"Guess I won't be doing Zumba for a while, then, huh?"

He shook his head.

"And when did the doctor tell you we could have sex?" she asked. He must be anxiously counting the hours.

Eric shrugged. "Well, as soon as you're home, I assume. We could probably do it now, but you don't look like you'd be able to be too responsive just yet." He nodded to the curtain that was drawn between her and the next bed. "And you've got a roommate."

She toyed with the sheet at the edge of her bed. "You don't sound as eager as I would have expected."

"It's been eighteen months, Tami. I can wait another two weeks to make sure you enjoy it."

She wanted to be angry over all the time she'd lost. But she was just tired, unsure what the future held, and trying to pluck her next question from a thousand questions that tumbled through her mind. "How are Matt and Julie?"

He turned his hat inside out on his knee. "They broke up about eight months ago."

Tami closed her eyes. "Can't _one_ thing be the same?" she asked.

"Oh, it's the same," Eric said. "They got back together again a few months later. Just like they always do."

Her eyes opened again. "Why did they break up?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Same reason as the first two times I guess – no good reason at all."

"Well what did Julie _say_?"

"She said she didn't want to talk about it. So I didn't."

Tami would have talked about it. She'd have talked about it before it had happened, and it wouldn't even have happened! Maybe.

"They came down last month for a visit, stayed with me and Gracie and Carolyn."

"Who?"

"The au pair," he explained. "And Julie visited you of course. Read to you the bachelor's thesis she's working on. Don't guess any of it sunk in?"

"Maybe. Was it about Moby Dick and football?"

Eric laughed. It was good to see him smile – the smile was something familiar, something to hold onto, even if it was behind a goatee. "She switched her major from English to journalism," he said. "It was about the death of the print media or something like that."

So Julie had last visited three months ago. And how often had Eric visited? He lived over an hour away, and he had a new job. "What did you read to me?"

"The Psalms. Some love poetry. And about six sports biographies."

"Well you knew I'd love those." She smiled, and so did he. He leaned in and kissed her. When he pulled away, she said, "Don't stop."

"You're weak. Save your energy for the physical therapy."

"I think kissing is a pretty good therapy myself. Did you really read me love poetry?"

"Sure I did."

"Poetry you wrote?"

"Hell no. Byron and Shakespeare and some other stuff Carolyn told me was good. She's a British lit major."

"The au pair?"

He nodded.

"You never did answer – is she pretty? The au pair?"

"I guess," he said. "She was in the college edition of Playboy, so I guess she must be."

Tami blinked.

Eric laughed.

"Screw you," she said.

"I'd love it if you did. But let's make it romantic the first time."

The first time. It would be something like the first time, wouldn't it? The first time in a long time, anyway, for him.

He picked up his hat and began to turn it inside out and right side out, back and forth. "Tami, I'm flattered you seem to think some 21-year-old college girl would be the least bit interested in me. I'm not at all flattered that you think I'd be the least bit interested in _her_. Our _daughter_ is that age."

Not exactly. Julie was only eighteen. No. She _would_ be twenty now, wouldn't she? "I don't think that, Eric. I was just curious. I'm sure if you were going to cheat, you'd do it with someone closer to your own age." He stopped messing with his hat. He tossed it on the end table. She could tell she'd angered him, and she wished she could take it back. "I _know_ you didn't cheat."

"Do you?"

"Eric, I'm just scared. I don't know what I'm coming home to. Julie is 20. Gracie is going into Kindergarten. You bought some house I've never seen, and some other woman is raising my little girl."

"_I'm_ raising _our_ little girl. Carolyn is just helping."

"I've lost my dream job," Tami continued. "I guess they gave the Dean position to someone else?" He nodded. "And I don't know what I'm going to do in the future, or if I'll even be capable of doing all the things I used to do. I'm scared!"

He dragged the chair closer, put a hand on her hip, and looked her earnestly in the eyes. "Of course you are. But the one thing you don't have to be afraid of is me not being by your side every step of the way. Because I'm going to be. You got that?"

She bit her lip as if the action would keep the tears from coming out of her eyes, but it didn't. Eric kissed them away.

When he moved slightly aside to look down at her, she caressed the bristles of his goatee, ran a finger along his lips, and said, "You've got to shave that thing off if you ever want to go down on me again."

His chest rumbled with his laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Eric called early the next morning. When she reached for the phone on her nightstand, Tami felt like a fish out of water, flopping and unable to control her motions precisely. Her brain knew what she wanted to do, but her body wouldn't obey. Finally, she got the phone to her pillow and just lay her head beside it.

"You a'ight, babe?"

"Yeah."

"I told Gracie how you're doing, that you're not going to be up and walking around for a while, and she understands all that. I'll bring her up as soon as I'm done with training today. You want us to bring you some dinner?"

"I didn't eat much last night. I think I'll just drink some ensure from a straw like an old lady."

He laughed lightly. "A'ight. We'll stop for a bite on the way then and be there around 7." In the background, Tami he could hear a woman say _Eric, you'll be turning…._ and then she couldn't make out the rest. He'd covered the phone to respond.

"Was that the au pair?" she asked when he signaled he had the phone to his ear again.

"No, that's Sharon." He said it like she knew who Sharon was. Had he forgotten she wasn't a part of his life anymore?

"I don't know who that is."

"She's a neighbor. Her car wouldn't start, so I'm giving her a ride to work."

"Oh."

"Listen, I gotta go. I'll see you tonight. I love you."

"I love you too." She left the phone on her pillow awhile longer. He sure seemed in a hurry to get back to his life. Eventually, she got the receiver back into its cradle. It immediately rang again.

Julie this time. They talked about her temporary break up with Matt, but her daughter was not very forthcoming. "It was just a misunderstanding," Julie said. "I thought he was cheating."

"Why did you think that?"

"Because I'm an idiot." She then proceeded to tell Tami about her college classes, her internship at the Chicago Tribune, and her plans to come visit for Thanksgiving.

"Not until Thanksgiving?" Tami asked.

"I just started this internship. I can't cut out the first two weeks without losing it."

Surely they'd make an exception for her mother waking up from a coma, Tami thought.

"Classes start soon. And Thanksgiving is the first time I can get five days off in a row. I want to be able to stay and catch up with you. I don't want to just fly in and out. And Dad says you'll be walking by then."

So Julie didn't want to see her like an invalid, then. Did that mean she would never visit when Tami grew old? Cart her off into a nursing home and leave her there?

Tami drew in a deep breath. She recognized it, the pattern of negative thought, from the year she was depressed after Gracie was born. She'd learned from her therapist to be cognizant of it and to stop it in its tracks. She tried that now. "It'll be a good Thanksgiving," she said.

"I'll call again tomorrow," Julie assured her. "And when you're back home, we'll Skype."

"What do you think of your father's new house?" Tami should say _our_ new house, shouldn't she?

"It's fine," was all Julie had to say.

Tami talked to three more people that morning. She tried to get ahold of her sister, but Shelley didn't answer her phone and, two hours later, she still hadn't returned her messages. Tami tried not to let the fact anger her, but she was pretty sure if Shelley had been in a coma for a year and half, she'd be returning that call right away.

**[FNL]**

Tami winced as the physical therapist bent and unbent her legs repeatedly. She'd been rolled down in a wheelchair to what they called "the gym," and she was now finding out how much muscle tone she'd lost over the many moths.

The therapist, a plump, African-American woman with long, braided hair, placed a small machine on the floor and told Tami to try pedaling. Tami did, and she made the pedals circle two times before giving up. She was already tired from the leg exercises. "I'm sorry, Wanda. I can't."

"It's okay. You're actually my best patient today. You at least _try_ everything I ask." Wanda stood behind Tami and raised her arms above her head. "Hold for as long as you can."

It wasn't as long as she would have liked. After her arms dropped, Tami said, "I used to be in such good shape. I went to the gym four times a week. Now I can't even shower myself." She'd had a shower this morning, in one of those sit-down chairs, but she'd needed someone to get her there and then back to the bed. Her legs couldn't seem to bear the weight of her body. It was embarrassing, to have to rely on people like that.

"Well, you'll be going to _my_ gym twice a day, seven days a week," the therapist assured her. She came and stood in front of her and smiled. "And I've been giving you some therapy even while you were in the coma. Stretching out your arms and legs and such. You didn't lose it completely, hon."

Tami shook her head. "When my husband got here yesterday, he looked so good, and all I could think when he left was how awful I look now." She hadn't known Wanda before this morning, but why not make her a random confidant? Who else did she have? "I wonder why he didn't transfer me to San Angelo to be closer to him?"

"Probably because he trusted Dr. Martin to be your attending. And probably because he knew a heck of a lot more people would visit you in Dillon. If you can manage to open the top drawer of your dresser, you'll see four big ol' piles of cards in there, from when you were first in the comma. And do you have any idea how many high school and former high school students you've had come read to you over the past year and a half?"

Tami shook her head and smiled. Then she asked, "How often did Eric visit?" She didn't like the tone of her own question, the mild insecurity. Tami had always been supremely confident in her marriage, but it was odd to think that Eric had a life she hadn't been a part of for quite some time now, that after twenty years of mutual give and take and listening to her input, he'd spent the past year and a half making decisions and plans entirely by himself.

"Oh, honey, don't ask that."

"Why?"

Wanda sighed and put a hand on her hip. "He came every single day for the first two months. Also brought your little girl once a week. Then he moved to San Angelo, and he still came three times a week. And every time he left your side, he looked liked he'd been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. I think after a while maybe he wanted to stop letting himself get run over. So it was just Sunday afternoons after that. He sat in a chair by your bed, held your hand, and watched football for two hours."

Tami chuckled. She's wondered why they kept TVs in the rooms with coma patients. Then she felt sad to think of all those people by her side, reading to her, maybe touching her, hoping they were doing some good…and she didn't remember any of it.

"You're seeing your little one today, aren't you?" Wanda asked.

Tami nodded and her stomach fluttered. How changed would her daughter be? Children grew a lot in a year and a half. They learned a lot, and they forgot a lot too.

Would Gracie remember how much her mother loved her?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

After Tami's lunch of chocolate pudding and vanilla ensure – no work chewing, but a little light lifting with the spoon – her friend Glen walked through the door, cautiously, looking about the room, as though Coach Taylor might jump out and punch him, although Coach Taylor never had, not even when Glen told him he'd kissed Tami.

"Hey, Glen," she said. "How are you?"

He had a white shopping bag in his hand. He scurried into the chair. "I should be asking that of you."

"I'm awake," she said. She rested her head back against the pillow on the elevated bed. It was not right that lunch should be an effort instead of a pleasure, she thought. She tried to push the tray away from herself, and left it halfway. Glen pushed it the rest of the way for her.

"Your husband come to see you yet?" he asked.

"Of course! He was here soon after I woke up. Why wouldn't he be?"

"I…yeah. Of course he would. I just haven't seen him around Dillon much lately. I know he moved and all."

"He'll be here again this evening." She nodded slightly. "What's in the bag?"

"Figured you'd be tired of hospital robes, so I bought you something to wear."

She closed her eyes. _Good Lord._ It was a nice thought, but what sort of clothes would _Glen_ have bought her? After he'd stopped by during their packing to say his farewells, Eric had said, "He's like a little eager puppy dog who can't help peeing on the floor." Buying her clothes…it was kind of like peeing on the floor.

Glen pulled out a silk robe and set it on the bed beside her. She touched it lightly with her fingertips. It was overly pink for her taste, but it felt silky exquisite on the outside, and soft and warm on the inside. It sure would be a damn sight better than the hospital robe. And Eric hadn't thought to bring her any clothes. Not that she blamed him. He'd left summer training and jumped in the car and driven straight to Dillon when he got the news.

She almost told Glen it was an inappropriate gift, but the truth was, she wanted it. She wanted out of these hospital robes. So she just said, "Thanks. It's very thoughtful."

**[FNL]**

An hour later, Tami was sitting up in bed and pointing the remote control at the TV. She hated that it took any effort. Before she could change the channel, Shelley burst through the open doorway shouting, "Surprise!"

So her sister hadn't forgotten her. She came bearing gifts, too – a double Whataburger ("We'll start rebuilding your muscles right now!" she'd said, though Tami couldn't manage even a quarter of it), a manicure kit, make-up, a decent hair brush, and hair gel. For once, Tami didn't mind her little sister giving her a makeover, though she did warn her, "Go easy. I don't want to look like a dime store hooker."

"They don't have dime stores anymore, Sleeping Beauty," Shelley teased as she ran the brush through Tami's hair.

Tami asked her about the month she'd spent living with Eric in San Angelo.

"He was in sad shape, Tami. I mean, I was upset too, of course…but he was in _sad_ shape. I think the church ladies kept him supplied with casseroles for the first two months in Dillon, but when he moved to San Angelo, he was at a loss. And then they threw him into that head coach position a few weeks after he started working as a QB coach." She spritzed Tami's hair with detangler and then resumed her brushing. "He didn't call me until after he'd _bought_ the house. He should have asked me to help him _find_ the house. I _am_ a realtor after all."

"Why? Did he pick a bad one?"

"No," she admitted. "It's pretty nice actually. Certainly better than your old house." Shelley continued her styling, and then held up a mirror for Tami. Tami was pleasantly surprised by her sister's work. Shelley put down the mirror and proceeded to apply Tami's make up.

"So how poorly did you two get along?" Tami asked.

"Don't talk while I'm applying." Shelley finished Tami's lips and ordered her to close her eyes. "He was actually okay to me. Showed some gratitude for a change. And he _should_ have. I did give up a month's worth of real estate work to help him out with my niece. And to ward off the vultures."

Tami's eyes shot open. "What vultures?"

Shelley put away the eye shadow. "Of course all the divorced women in the neighborhood wanted to get to know the new, _hot_ single father. So I had to make it clear he was only _temporarily_ single and that he was going to be totally celibate in his singlehood."

"Didn't Eric make that clear himself?"

"Well, you know your husband." Shelley opened the mascara. "He's like a deer caught in the headlights anytime a woman flirts with him."

"That is not true!" Tami insisted, but she was already laughing on the word "true." When Shelley was done with her eyes, Tami asked, "These vultures, was one of them named Shannon?" She thought that was the name of the woman Eric had been giving a ride to this morning when he called.

Shelley contemplated. "Name doesn't ring a bell," she said.

"Sharon maybe?" Tami ventured.

"Oh, yeah. Sharon. She's the one with the husband stationed in Korea. She didn't want to leave her job to go with him, and he was only going to be there a couple years, so they did the long distance thing, like you and Eric when he was in Austin."

That hadn't worked out too well for her and Eric. Tami wouldn't recommend it to anyone, and certainly not for two years. She'd ended up leaning too hard on Glen for friendship. She wondered if Sharon was doing that, leaning on Eric for friendship, and if he was leaning on her, and if, like Glen, Sharon might have mistaken the friendship for something more.

"She brought some pie over to welcome Eric to the neighborhood while I was there, but she didn't really flirt with him obviously. She was actually the most normal one to stop by." Shelley said it as if that made her the lowest threat instead of the highest.

"So," Tami asked, "do you think the vultures started circling again once you left?"

"No. I didn't leave until he hired the au pair, and I think they all just figured he was banging her and their forty-year-old asses couldn't compete."

"Shelley! I'm forty-one. _You're_ practically forty."

"I'm still in my thirties."

"Your _late_ thirties. And why would they think he was - "

"- Banging her?" Shelley asked as she tidied up the makeup and pulled out the manicure kit. "If he cleaned up and put on a tuxedo, he'd look like a Hollywood leading man. I guess they figured - who _wouldn't_ want to hit that?"

"You do realize this is my husband you're talking about?"

"You do realize you're married to a good-looking man? I mean, I know how _not_ hot he is because I've lived with him before, but _they_ don't know that. All they know is that he's good-looking and polite and a good dad – and that last one is waaaay sexy to these divorced chicks who are single moms."

Tami shook her head. "That au pair is Julie's age. There's no way Eric would ever - "

"- _You_ know that. And _I_ know that. But _they_ don't know that. So I think they just turned up their noses at him once she moved in."

"Did you meet her? Is she good with Gracie?"

"Yeah. I've gone and visited a couple of times in the last year. She's fine. Gracie loves her."

"So," Tami said, deciding she didn't want to think about Gracie loving some other mother figure, "You're still doing the real estate thing?"

She didn't think she'd said it the least bit snidely, but Shelley sure took it that way. "Yes! I can stick with something, thank you very much. As a matter of fact, I made $74,000 in commissions last year."

"Really?"

Shelley stopped filing Tami's nails. "Really. And I would have made more if I hadn't helped out Eric with Gracie. I think I'm on schedule to hit $90,000 this year. "

Tami thought that had to be some kind of a serious exaggeration. She didn't say she thought it, but Shelley apparently saw that she thought it.

"Look, Tam, I sell in the _nice_ Dallas neighbourhoods. I'm good at this realtor thing. I'm high energy and the men do anything I tell them. If I say you have to get rid of this man cave and make it look like a library, they don't argue."

Maybe it was possible. Maybe, after all these years of flitting around, her little sister had found her niche. Of course, a housing crash was always around the horizon. "So, how's your love life?"

"Eric didn't tell you?" Shelley opened some red nail polish. "Of course he didn't. I don't think that man ever listens when I talk to him."

"Tell me what?"

"I'm engaged."

Engaged? Tami was slightly embarrassed for thinking it, but…what kind of man would marry her sister? "Congratulations!" She'd try to say it as an exclamation. She hoped it hadn't come out as a question. She was glad Shelley finally seemed to be settling down. She looked down at Shelley's finger.

"No ring yet," Shelley said. "He wants me to pick it out myself."

Tami didn't find that romantic. She preferred the down on one knee proposal, with the ring extended, at sunset. It hadn't been sunset when Eric proposed, but she liked to revise the story in her mind and add that little detail. "So tell me about him." She really hoped he wasn't some twenty-eight year old kid.

"He's thirty-nine, and of course fabulously good-looking. He went to high school in Midland."

Usually you told someone where a thirty-nine year old went to _college_. Not where he went to high school. "High school?"

"Yes, Tami, high school. We can't all have fancy B.A.s like you and Eric."

"So…what's he do?"

"He's a commercial pilot," Shelley chirped, and painted half a nail in one graceful swish.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he joined the military when he was 18, got his training there, left when he was 30…and he's been flying for American for the past few years." Shelley painted another one of Tami's nails. "So he's gone a lot, but that's fine by me. I like my space, you know. And the sex is _hot_ when he gets home."

"Well okay then. Sounds like the ideal arrangement for you. Are you buying a house together?"

"We already have one. In Coppell. I thought we should buy in Highland but he said it was way too expensive." Shelley moved onto Tami's next nail. "You'll meet him later. Maybe over Thanksgiving. He actually has it off for the first time in seven years. You'll be back to normal by then."

Tami sighed. "I'm not sure I'll ever be back to normal."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Gracie looked so grown up when she let go of Eric's hand and walked cautiously to Tami's bedside. Eric had shaved, and his face was now more familiar to her. She loved to think he had done it just for her, and she wished she could draw him close and stroke those smooth cheeks.

Instead, she held out her arms for Gracie. Tami was glad for the morning exercises, which had given her the practice she needed to complete the simple hug. Gracie had grown so tall in such a short time. She must be in the top ten percent of height for her age. Her hair was longer and braided. Tami wondered if the au pair Carolyn did the braids, because she couldn't imagine Eric doing it. "Gracie Belle, baby girl, how are you?"

"Okay," she said, and then stepped back as Tami's arms slackened. The girl looked back at Eric, as though she were asking him what she should do or say.

"Sit down," he half whispered, and pushed forward one of the chairs. Gracie sat in it, and he took the other. "You look really pretty, Tami," he said, and gestured to Gracie. "Doesn't your mama look great?"

Gracie smiled timidly. Tami knew that, with the help of Shelley's makeover, she looked better than she had yesterday, but she also knew she didn't look "great." She'd lost too much weight in that coma, and most of it muscle. She loved Eric for saying so, though.

"Yeah," Gracie said, "you look great, Mom."

_Mom._ Gracie had still been calling her mommy just…well…eighteen months ago. Mom. Mom was what _Julie_ called her.

Gracie looked away from the bed and stared at the TV mounted on the wall. It wasn't on. Tami had turned it off when she heard their voices in the hall. "You're starting kindergarten next year, aren't you?" Tami asked. She hated this: talking to her own daughter – the child she'd carried in her womb for nine months – like some distant relative who only visited once every two years.

"Yeah," Gracie said, "at Trinity."

"Trinity?" Tami asked. "Is that a private school?"

"Uh…" Eric shifted a little in his seat. "The public schools in San Angelo don't really have any acceleration for gifted kids until third grade. Trinity will be more challenging for her."

"Why didn't you check what the schools were like before you bought?" Tami asked.

"I did! They're okay. I just didn't know how far ahead she'd be at the time. But Trinity is three miled form our house, it's a great school, and we get a 20% discount, because we go to the church that runs it."

"It's a Methodist school?" Tami asked.

He shifted again. "It's Episcopalian. We go to an Episcopal church. Figured I should, since I'm coaching at SAEU, and…what's the difference, really? Wine instead of grape juice. A little extra liturgy."

Tami shook her head. So now she had not only a different town, a different house, a husband with a different job, but she apparently had a different _denomination_ too.

"Gracie went to pre-K at Trinity last year," Eric hastened. "She loved it."

"Did you?" Tami asked her.

Gracie looked at her father, then back at Tami. "I like it," she said. "All my friends go there."

"Well what's the curriculum? Is it really conservative? I don't want her taught some funda - "

"- It's _Episcopalian_, Tami," Eric said. "And it has excellent, well-rounded academics. You think I didn't look into this kind of stuff?" He clenched his jaw, glanced at Gracie, and fell silent.

Tami knew Eric had to make all of these decisions without her, of course, but it was odd to think he had, that she'd had no say in any of it. "It sounds like a great school," she said. But a private school? An au pair? And her here, in this long-term care and rehabilitation facility? How was he _paying_ for all this?

Before she could stop herself, Tami had asked, "How can we afford all that?"

"I make good money," Eric said tightly. He glanced at Gracie, half stood, and leaned forward to whisper in Tami's ear, "$200,000 a year." Then he sat back down. "And you've been a pretty cheap date for the past year and half. You wouldn't believe how much I've saved on wine alone."

Tami might have laughed at his joke if she wasn't still stunned by the salary figure. She knew head coaches made enormous salaries at the big universities, but the Division II schools didn't usually pay much. Shane State had only offered him $120,000. She didn't dare ask about it in front of Gracie, but her eyes must have spoken the question, because he said, "I guess Episcopalians have money." He turned to Gracie, "I'm gonna run and get us some ice cream. Tell your mama about your club."

Gracie's face brightened. "I started a kids' book club with my friends from school," she told Tami as Eric left the room. "We read two books a month during the summer and meet at each other's houses to talk about them. And eat cupcakes."

"I'm guessing it's that last part that appeals to you most," Tami teased.

"No!" Gracie insisted. "I like the books too."

"It's a great idea. Do you read the books yourselves?" Gracie wasn't even in kindergarten yet.

Gracie shrugged. "I do. Sometimes Daddy helps with the big words." It wasn't lost on Tami that she still called Eric _daddy_.

"You came up with a great idea to have a book club."

"Well…" Gracie said, her voice going up on the ell, "it was Carolyn's idea. But I liked it!"

Tami tried not to show her annoyance. "You like Carolyn a lot?"

"Oh yeah," Gracie said. "She's a lot of fun."

_I can be a lot of fun_, Tami thought. _I was a lot of fun. Wasn't I?_

Eric took his sweet time getting the ice cream. Tami talked to Gracie for over half an hour, asking her daughter questions about her life over the past year and a half. She learned Gracie liked reading Shel Silverstein books, watching Sponge Bob Square Pants, playing with the iPad (iPad! Eric had bought an iPad? Mr. What-a-waste-of-money?) and roller skating. Apparently there was a rink just four miles from the house, and Carolyn had taken her once a week. She'd had lessons. She could skate backwards.

Eric walked in with three ice cream sandwiches as Gracie was talking about the roller rink. As he handed Gracie's hers, he said, "Roller derby. That's what this one's going to end up doing."

"Hey. It's a _sport_," Gracie said, unwrapping her ice cream. "But I might do roller hockey instead."

Eric and Gracie demolished their ice cream sandwiches. Tami took two bites of the one she'd been brought.

Eric glanced at his watch. "Carolyn should be here in a couple minutes to get you, peanut. I'm gonna stay with your mamma for a while, and then I'll be on home."

Gracie was already peering around him to the door frame, where a girl was peering in. The young woman had medium brown skin and long, thick hair. She looked Arabic, perhaps. She was pretty, but in an unconventional way. The young woman waved, and Gracie giggled and jumped up.

"Have her come in," Tami told Eric. "I want to meet her."

Carolyn smiled down at Tami when she was at the bedside. "I'm so glad you're awake," she said. "I prayed every day for you."

Tami was a bit startled by that. "Thank you."

"It's nice to finally meet you." She glanced at Eric. "Coach Taylor talks about you all the time."

Gracie already had a hand in Carolyn's hand.

Eric asked, "Did you get your schedule sorted out?"

"Yeah," Carolyn said. "All of my classes are when Gracie's in school. Coverage shouldn't be a problem."

He nodded to Tami. "It'll be awhile before my wife is up and running. We'll keep you on for the school year."

_We'll_ keep you on, Tami thought. Just like that. Without even asking her if she wanted some young woman living with them. Gracie hugged Tami goodbye – but not without Eric reminding her to. Then she left with Carolyn.

"Why did you have her leave so soon?"

"Well," Eric said, "there's only so much for a kid to do in a place like this. And I wanted some time with you."

"So you've already decided Carolyn's living with us for the whole school year? Didn't think to ask me how I felt?"

"Hey, she was relying on this job. She doesn't come from some loaded family, like a lot of these SAEU kids. I can't just pull the rug out from under her. And you're going to need the help. You're not going to be able to just walk in the door and do everything you used to do right away. Carolyn cooks too, four days of the week."

"_I_ can cook."

"I know. I missed your lasagna. But take the help."

What was she going to do? Sit around her husband's house all day, waited on by the au pair, waiting to be capable of something? Tami didn't like the thought at all. "I need to start thinking about a job."

"That's the last thing you need to start thinking about." He eased his chair closer and took her hand. "I told you what I make, and you're in no condition to work anytime soon."

"Did it occur to you I might _want_ to work?"

"Why are you being so snippy with me?"

"I don't know, Eric. Maybe because I just woke up from an 18-month coma and realized I don't get a say in my own life."

He released her hand and put a hand on either arm of his chair. "I'm sure it's hard, Tami. But you know what's just as hard? Watching your wife collapse when you walk her into the doctor's office, and then waiting for her to wake up day after day after day. Watching goddamn Joe McCoy wake up in three weeks, and _she_ doesn't. Not in three, not in six, not in eight. Being told her chances are 80 percent…then 60…then 40…then 20. Realizing you're a single father, and that you've got no job and no home. Starting a new job in a town and getting thrown into the top position almost the next day. Trying to figure out every time you buy something for the house – would my wife like this? And then thinking, is my wife ever even gonna _see_ this?" He clenched his jaw and let a strong breath out of his nostrils. He looked away and then looked back. "I know it isn't going to be easy for you starting a new life. But please…I just need you to trust me. Not _question_ me. _Trust _me. I've done the best I can."

"Eric…" She reached out her hand to him and he took it and kissed it. He glanced at the curtain which was half drawn to reveal the empty bed.

"My roomate's in physical therapy," Tami told him. "Come cuddle with me."

He stood, closed the door to the room, and then lifted the sheet and eased into bed beside her. He helped her scoot to the side to make room for him and to roll towards him so that they were face to face. She was grateful for the strength and warmth of his body against hers, his familiar arm around her waist. He kissed her forehead.

Tami asked, "When you said the public schools aren't good for gifted kids…how gifted is Gracie?"

"I took her to a psychologist, you know, because she was having a hard time with all the…everything. The psychologist did a full evaluation. I guess it's routine to give an IQ test as part of that."

Tami raised an eyebrow."

"135," he said. "Apparently that's in the top 2-3%."

"Who does she get _that_ from?"

He smiled. "Maybe we're both smarter than we think. But probably you."

"What kind of trouble was she having?"

He lowered his eyes. "You don't need to worry about that. She's been doing great for the past year."

"Eric."

He sighed. "She was saying stuff…I hate myself, I wish I were dead...throwing massive fits whenever I told her no about anything. And I wasn't the best father those first few months. I was so...lost." He raised his eyes to hers again. "But I stepped up. She really is doing well, Tami. I promise you."

He pressed his lips softly to hers. What began as a tender peck deepened into a passionate kiss. He was hungry for her lips, and when he pulled away, they were both gasping.

He lowered the sheet to their waists and wrapped his finger around one of the strings closing her robe. "This is pretty. Where did you get this?"

Tami winced. "You don't want to know."

"Why?"

She laughed a little. "Glen stopped by to visit this morning. He brought it as a little welcome back to the world gift."

Eric's grip tightened on the string. "I don't like the idea of Glen giving _**my**_ wife lingerie."

"It's not lingerie," Tami insisted. "It's a robe." Normally, she might tease him for his possessiveness, or even scold him for it, but right now, it was comforting.

"I don't like the idea of _any_ man giving my wife lingerie."

"Eric, it's not lingerie – "

"- No," he said. "You're not wearing a robe some other man gave you." He now sounded more amused than jealous. "You're going to have to take this off right now." He yanked the string until the robe fell slightly loose. She giggled as he assaulted her neck with kisses and murmured, "Take it off." He pushed the robe open and cupped a breast with his hand. She wanted to rap her leg tightly around him and pull him close, but the most she could manage was to drape her ankle lightly over his. She moaned when he circled his thumb around one nipple and lowered his mouth to it. She buried a hand in his hair, but she didn't arch her back as she normally would. When she tried to shift slightly to urge him toward the other breast, she found it impossible to do so beneath his weight.

He sensed her struggle to move, and his warm mouth left her tingling flesh. He kissed her lips softly and lay his head down beside hers on the pillow. Even through their clothing, she could feel his erection, straining against her leg.

"Eric, you don't have to stop. If you want to - "

"- And what? You just lie there?"

"I can kiss you. I can move my arms and legs a little." She laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

"That's not how I want it the first time back," he said.

"To me, it feels like we made love less than a week ago."

He kissed her cheek. "I remember that last time. I've been living on that memory. And a few other favorites."

"You sure you don't want to?" She moved her leg slightly against his erection.

"_Want_ is not the issue here."

The door opened, and Wanda's voice rang out, "Oh good Lordy! I'm so sorry."

Eric yanked Tami's robe closed and then rolled out of her bed. He yanked the sheet back up to her neck and pulled his shirt down over the front of his shorts in two quick, jerky moves.

"I was just coming to return your roommate and then get you for second session of physical therapy, but it looks like you're already having some, honey," Wanda said with a laugh. "I'll take your roommate for a little roll down the halls and be back in half an hour. And I'll knock this time." She flipped the wheelchair around, pushed it out into the hall, and closed the door behind her.

Eric, flushing red, sat down in the chair and tried to switch to small talk. "You like your roommate?"

"She can't talk. So it's hard to say. You want to get back in here?"

He shook his head.

"Why?" Tami didn't really like the idea of having sex in a room as clinical as this one, with limited privacy, but she hadn't gone eighteen months without it either, at least not in her own mind. It made her nervous that he wasn't desperate for it.

"I think we should wait until you're home. We'll be in our own big bed, plenty of room, and you'll be in better shape to…respond. We can take our sweet time."

Tami smiled. "I like it when you take your sweet time."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Your husband is one fine looking man," Wanda told Tami as she moved the walker away and made her take a few steps on her own.

The therapist walked backward in front of Tami, held out her hands, and caught her when her legs buckled before helping her sit down in a chair.

"Yes he is," Tami agreed. "Too bad for him he's going to have a toddler at home again."

"Oh, hon, look how much you've improved in such a short time! You're like wonder woman. He's a lucky man, that one."

"I wish I could take you with me when I go. Sure you don't want to commute to San Angelo?"

Wanda chuckled. "You'd have to pay me mileage both ways."

"Well, apparently my husband's been sleeping in piles of money to keep him warm at night while I've been gone, so maybe I will." She still couldn't quite believe he was making what he'd said he was making. Their _combined_ salaries in Philadelphia were supposed to be less than that, and San Angelo housing was cheaper.

"He better buy you some champagne when you get home."

Wanda had brought her walker over, and Tami now stood up and grasped either side. "You have no idea how much I miss wine. I haven't had it for a week."

"Well, a week and eighteen months, hon."

Tami laughed. "On a positive note, it should only take me half a glass to get buzzed now."

"Tell your husband to bring you a little bottle before he comes for your next _therapy_ session. I promise I won't bust through the door this time."

Tami let go of the walker and simply stood, seeing how long she could maintain her balance. "It's okay. He doesn't want to do anything more than make out a little every time he comes. He wants to wait until we're _home_. I guess I'm not appealing as I used to be."

"Oh, honey, don't you do that now. He's a gentleman and a romantic and that's all there is to it. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. Nothin' at all." She held a hand out, poised to steady Tami if she fell. Tami took three steps this time and then grabbed onto Wanda, who redirected her to the walker. "And just think," Wanda told her, "you get to feel like a teenager all over again. You know how it was, when you first started dating and you're stealing kisses in parked cars and under the bleachers and _fantasizing_ about it but not actually _doing_ it yet."

Tami smiled.

"Oh, Lord, Tami, I'd _love_ to feel like _that_ again. Hardly anybody gets to relive those days, let alone married folk. Enjoy it while it lasts, I say." She motioned for Tami to sit down in front of one of the pedal machines, and Tami obeyed. "It's become so routine with my own old man. Seven minutes of foreplay and then straight to sleep afterward." She sighed. "Maybe our marriage could benefit from a coma."

**[FNL]**

Tami was settled into bed with the TV on two hours after Eric left with Gracie, assuming she'd had her last visitor of the day, when Tyra Collette popped through the door. She was holding a bottle of Chardonnay and two clear, plastic comes. "Hey, Mrs. T," she called, tilting the bottle left and then right for emphasis, "A little birdie told me you needed some wine."

"Tyra! I didn't expect to see you here. Get over here and open that."

Tyra smiled and closed the door and came and sat down. The wine was already uncorked and had a stopper in it, which she popped out. "Does your roommate want any?" Tyra asked, glancing toward the drawn curtain.

"I think she's asleep."

When Tyra had poured there cups, Tami took a sip and savored it. "So tell me what's been going on with you, girl," she said. "I see you've gone for a change of hair color." The once blonde strands were auburn now.

"Trying it out. I was just home to see my nephew and nieces, heard you'd kicked that coma's ass, and thought I'd stop by."

"Nieces?"

Tyra sipped her wine and said, "Billy and Mindy had twin girls."

"What other town gossip can you update me on? Eric's no use."

Tyra smirked. "Not much. I tried to avoid Dillon when I can. I've finished my degree and I'm working in Austin now."

"Are you? That's such a great town for you. What are you doing these days?"

"I work in the Mayor's office doing political research," she shrugged. "It's boring, but it's a stepping stone."

Tami took another sip of her wine, and then two more. She could already feel it going to her head, which was probably why she bluntly asked, "How's your love life?"

"On hold."

Tami raised her cup to her. "Good call. You need to focus on your career right now." She took another sip.

"I mean, I'm getting laid plenty, but no boyfriend to speak of."

Tami coughed on her wine. "Tyra…"

"I know, I know, Mrs. T. I know exactly what you're going to say. But I'm not you. I'm not going to get hurt. I'm completely in control. I'm being careful. And no one is using anybody."

"Okay then," Tami said. At least Tyra hadn't ended up at the Landing Strip.

Fifteen minutes later, Tami was having a _very good_ laugh, and she'd only finished one glass of wine. Tyra ended up drinking most of the bottle, laughing with her, and then calling Tim Riggins to drive her home.

"Sweetheart," Tami told her, "it's a sad commentary when Tim Riggins has to be your designated driver."

**[FNL]**

Eric came alone to pick Tami up when she was released from the care facility. He explained that Gracie was at home preparing a "welcome home surprise" for her with the help of Carolyn. These past two weeks, Tami had noticed that he talked about Carolyn with almost as much ease and familiarity as he talked about Julie, almost as if the au pair were a member of the family, which, perhaps, she had become. When Tami finally came "home" today, she'd be walking into a new town, a new house, and, in some sense, even a new family.

Tami made her way out to the curb with the support of a cane. She'd been using a walker regularly for the past week for longer distances, and Wanda had strongly suggested she continue to use it, but the cane made her feel less feeble. She'd chosen one that was very much like the one her father had walked with in the years before he'd died. Tami had had a tumultuous relationship with her strict and verbally abusive mother, and even now they only spoke on the phone once a year. But she'd been close to her father, who had always softened her mother's criticisms, though he was too weak to truly stand up to her and had never mustered up the courage to divorce her. He'd been a warm and affectionate man to his daughters, and Tami had been the apple of his eye, a real daddy's girl. She'd found a husband who was like her father in his affectionate family tendencies, but completely unlike him in his determination and strength.

Eric laced her free arm through his and helped her to the car, a dark blue Outback. "What happen to your SUV?" she asked as he opened the door for her. They'd sold her car before she went into the coma. They were planning to buy her a new one when they moved to Philadelphia, but they were going to drive his SUV all the way there.

"It's at home. I bought this for Carolyn to use," he said. "I brought it because I thought it would be easier for you to get in and out of."

"You bought her a car?" she asked after he'd put her few things in the hatchback and sat in the driver's seat.

"I bought it for her to _use_." He cranked the ignition. "She doesn't get to _keep_ it when she leaves. But it was a job perk, you know – room, board, utilities, Internet, car...That way I don't have to pay her as much cash. And this works well for hauling Gracie and her friends. If you don't like it though, when Carolyn's not with us, we'll get you something else. We'll trade it in."

He was on the road now.

"I think I'm probably going to want something else," she said. "This is a little too soccer mom for me."

"A'ight. You know, though, Gracie wants to sign up to play soccer in the spring." In Texas, soccer was a year-round sport, and of course Gracie would have chosen a season when her father could actually come to see her play.

He was fairly quiet most of the drive, and Tami watched the landscape on the way to her new city. She'd heard of San Angelo, of course, knew where it was, and probably driven within twenty miles of it, but she'd never actually _been_ there. It wasn't Dallas or Austin or Houston or San Antonio. There wasn't really any reason to go there.

Yet now?

Now it was home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

As they approached the city skyline, Eric began talking rapidly. "We live on the other side of the city in the suburbs, where it's quiet and safe. You'll like San Angelo. It's a whole metro area, you know, with over 111,000 people, so there are plenty of things to do. There's a symphony and a ballet."

Tami chuckled. As if Eric was ever going to go to either of those.

"And the Chicken Farm Art Center," he said.

"What?" Tami asked.

"Chicken Farm Art Center."

"Does it just have paintings of chickens?"

"Nah. It's a bunch of art studios. Fifteen of them. All sorts of different stuff."

"You've actually been?"

"I went with Matt when he visited a year ago. He wanted to buy some stuff for the gallery back in Chicago. That's what he does now. Flies around acquiring art for the gallery. I was kind of surprised he wanted to bother with San Angelo, or that he called me up. He and Julie were broken up at the time."

"So he took you to the Chicken…Farm?"

"Yeah, and we went out for some drinks. Had a weird conversation."

Tami raised an eyebrow. "Which was?"

"He wanted to know if you ever thought I'd cheated when I hadn't. I said no, that you weren't a jealous type and you trusted me completely."

Tami turned and looked out the window and felt guilty for the occasional flickers of doubt that had stirred within her these past two weeks. _Eighteen months. A new life. Vultures._

"And he asked what I'd do if you acted like that," Eric continued, "if I'd be so offended I'd want to break it off, and I said I'd just be grateful you were alive and that I could hold you and talk to you."

Tami looked back at him. "Well, Julie said they broke up because she thought he cheated on her. I guess he was the one who broke it off because she didn't trust him."

"Maybe."

"Girl's got trust issues," Tami said.

"Well it's not our fault," Eric insisted.

"It probably has something to do with Matt dumping her in high school and running off to Chicago and not calling for the longest time."

"She dumped him once before that," Eric reminded her. "And Matt was abandoned by his mother and basically by his father too. Julie's had two parents who are always there for her. So if anyone has an excuse for trust issues, it's him and not her."

"When did you become Matt's champion?"

He changed the subject. "San Angelo's got a professional indoor football team. The Bandits. They were just founded recently. They play in the Lonestar Football League. I'm thinking maybe one day I'll end up coaching them. I've worked with high school kids, and college kids, but I've never worked with real grown-ups."

Eventually? Was he planning on staying in San Angelo forever? What about _her_ "eventually"? Maybe she wanted to follow a dream somewhere, a new dream, since the old one had gone bust.

"I think you're going to like the house." He glanced at her. His sunglasses masked the anxiousness in his eyes, but she could hear it in his voice. "I got one with his and her closets. I know that's important to you. They're really big too. The closets."

She felt a sudden fondness and put a hand on his knee and squeezed.

"Our storage facility flooded."

"What?" she asked.

"You know, the day after you went into the coma, we had to clear out of the house for the new owners. I put our stuff in storage. It flooded, and we lost a bunch of stuff. Game tape survived, thank God."

Eric and his game tape. "What _didn't_ survive?"

"Gracie's toys, but she'd of outgrown them in a year anyway. Most of the furniture. Most of the clothes. But I collected the insurance and, hey, you get to buy a new wardrobe."

"Did you already buy new furniture?"

He glanced at her. "I _had_ to."

"Of course you did." She sighed. "Did any of my books survive?"

"Almost all of the books survived. They were on top of the bed."

"You had to get a new bed?"

"You'll like it," he assured her as he exited the highway. "We'll give it a good workout tonight."

**[FNL]**

Eric let her know when they were entering "their" neighbourhood. He pointed out the open window to a brick wall on either side of the two-way street that marked the entrance, the words "The Village" affixed to it in white letters.

"That's a creepy name for a community," Tami said. The area was well landscaped, but the houses looked a bit cookie-cutter to her. She'd gotten used to the erratic zoning of small town Texas: a rambler next to a McMansion next to a 40-year-old three-bedroom next to a trailer.

A woman was running down the sidewalk toward them, her long brown hair pulled back into a pony tail, a gray running shirt tight across her full breasts. Tami noticed Eric noticing her. She wasn't _surprised_ he noticed her – she was attractive after all – but she was surprised he noticed her with such utter lack of subtlety. He'd always been good about not checking out women around Tami, or at least _appearing_ not to. Maybe after a year and half without her, though, he'd fallen out of the habit of being subtle, because he actually _slowed down_ the car and looked straight at her.

It was when he honked that Tami realized he must actually know her. No way in hell Eric would ever honk at a pretty woman to signal his approval. The woman was getting closer now, and she waved and shouted, "Hey, Eric! Don't try to slow me down! I'm about to beat your time!" and then she was off in a flash and Eric resumed his regular driving speed.

Tami raised her sunglasses onto her head. "Who was _that_?"

"Sharon."

"The one you gave a ride to work when her car wouldn't start?"

"Yep. You'll meet her soon. She lives three doors down from us. You'll like her."

Tami wasn't sure she _would_ like her. "Is she married?" Tami asked innocently, even though Shelley had already told her Sharon's husband was in Korea.

"She's in the process of getting divorced."

"Oh." That Shelley had not known to tell her. "Do you two run together?" Tami had noticed he was slightly leaner than he had been a year and a half ago. "You hate running."

"I got back into it last year. We don't run together, but we've got a bit of competition going." He made a turn. "This is our street."

Eric pulled into the driveway in front of a house with an all-brick exterior and a two-car garage. He didn't open the garage, but instead parked in the wide driveway, next to his familiar SUV. At least something hadn't changed. A row of hedges lined the front of the house, and a large tree rose up in the strip of grass to the left. Eric had said the house had a sizeable backyard, but Tami thought she could lie down in the side yard, stretch out her arms, and touch the next driveway. She wasn't thrilled with the lack of space between houses. She'd been used to distance in Dillon.

He popped the trunk and grabbed the suitcase full of things she had accumulated in the hospital and then came around to help her out.

As Tami took a step away from the Outback, Carolyn, holding a stuffed duffle bag, exited the house and walked toward them. The au pair greeted Tami pleasantly. "It's so good to have you home," she said, as though it were her home too. "I'm just headed out for the weekend. I figured you'd probably like to get settled without me hanging around."

"Oh, there was no need for that," Tami said, even though she was relieved by the fact. "So," Tami asked as she turned her southern charm up high with a smile, "Girl's weekend?"

Carolyn blushed a little. "Not exactly a girl's weekend."

Eric's face clouded. "Who is he?"

Tami was shocked by the personal nature of the question, leveled at this adult college girl, but then she remembered that Carolyn had lived with him for over a year and observed that the tone was the same one he might once have used with Julie when she was a teenager.

"He's a great guy, Coach Taylor. Don't you worry. You know him. He's on the team."

"I can't think of anyone on that team who deserves you."

"Damien."

Eric appeared not to recognize the name.

"Damien Washington."

"Oh, Washington. 23. He's…ambitious."

"Good to know you approve of him," Carolyn said.

"I didn't say I approved. Washington. He's the one with all the" he raised a hand above his head and wiggled his fingers "ideas. He's always bothering me with his ideas for plays."

"So you _do_ like him." Carolyn smiled and gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

"What's he taking you away for?" Eric asked. "He has practice tomorrow. We have a game on Monday."

"We're not going far. He'll be at practice on time."

There was a honk at the edge of the driveway and Tami turned to see a young, African-American man in a modest, two-door sedan. He leapt out and popped the trunk. He was lean enough that she thought he must be a quarterback. She leaned on Eric for support, and he draped and arm around her waist. The cane was not quite enough after all this time of standing.

"Hello, Coach Taylor," Damien called and walked toward them. "Mrs. Taylor? We heard you were coming home. It's nice to meet you."

Tami extended her hand and, instead of shaking it, Damien raised it to his lips and kissed it.

"Don't do that," Eric grumbled. "There's no need for that. You know we have practice early on Saturday? And ten minutes early is late."

"Yes, sir." Damien picked up Carolyn's duffle bag and grinned broadly. Then he took her hand. "Nice to meet you, ma'am," he said to Tami.

As he began to tug Carolyn off, Eric hollered, "No heavy drinking on the weekend before a game!"

"I don't drink, sir," Damien called back. "At all."

As the young couple got into the car, Eric muttered, "I don't trust a man who doesn't drink."

Tami chuckled, and he apologized for making her stand there for so long. She shrugged it off, but it did take a little extra effort to complete the walk to the front door. He rang the doorbell, which she found odd.

"Did you lose your keys? You just put them in your pocket."

"It's open anyway," he said, and clicked the latch and swung the door wide, and she realized the doorbell was a warning.

"SURPRISE!"

She thought Gracie might have, with the help of Carolyn, put a "Welcome Home" banner and balloons, so those didn't surprise her. It was seeing Matt and Julie standing below the banner that made her let out a yelp of joy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Julie's eyes were damp when she hugged her mother, and Tami was relieved to see that her eldest daughter looked much the same, except for a shorter haircut. Matt seemed older, less a boy and more a man than she remembered him, though he had changed nothing in his dress or hairstyle.

Eric led Tami to the living room, and she sat down on the middle cushion of a black leather couch. Julie plopped down to her left and Gracie crawled into the lap not of her mother, but of her big sister. The little girl plucked a _Garfield_ comic book off of the end table and began paging through it.

Tami surveyed the living room furniture Eric had chosen. None of it was what she would have selected herself, but the pieces were at least attractive, classic, and matching. She wasn't sad to see that his old recliner apparently hadn't survived the flood. "Did Julie help you shop for furniture?" she asked.

"No. Gracie did," Eric answered as he extended an arm across Tami's shoulders and rubbed Gracie affectionately on the head. "Although she wanted couches with flower prints. We compromised."

"It wasn't a compromise!" Gracie insisted with a pout.

There was a fireplace in the living room, and above it was mounted a big screen television, much larger than anything Tami would have ever agreed to get, but actually the perfect size for the wall above the mantle.

After she'd rested and caught up some with Matt and Julie, Tami insisted on being given a tour of the house. The kitchen was but a few steps away, opening as it did onto the living room. She was glad to see the familiar table where they had shared so many family meals in the breakfast nook. Something, at least, of her old past had survived. She felt the gray-and-white flecked countertops, and asked, "Granite?"

"Nah," Eric said. "The man-made stuff that's like granite. Supposed to be easier to clean. You like it?"

"I love the countertops. But we're going to have to repaint the cabinets." They were an off-white color that didn't go well with the tile floor. "Is that a pantry?"

"Uh, no," he said, walking over to the double closets and pulling them open to reveal a washer and dryer. There was a good amount of cabinet space above the machines. In another corner of the kitchen, however, he opened what looked to be another closet, "But this is." It was stocked full of food at the moment, and, Tami noticed, plenty of beer on the floor. He walked over to the center island. "Stove top's here." He hovered a hand over it. "Refrigerator." He jerked a thumb to a new stainless steel one. "Old one shorted out. Got this to match the dishwasher."

He walked her through the dining room, which had hardwood floors. Their dining room set had apparently survived, and someone, probably Shelley during her month in San Angelo, had arranged Tami's grandmother's china neatly on the hutch. But there were also three of Gracie's stuffed animals sprawled across the floor and what looked to be a kids' chemistry set on a plastic drop cloth on the dining room table.

Eric grabbed the stuffies from the floor and set them on a chair. "Julie," he hollered. "You said you were going to get this table ready for dinner."

"I will, I will," she called and was soon standing in the doorway, her hands in the pockets in the back of her jeans. "Gracie wasn't done with her experiment yet."

Tami surveyed the beakers and food coloring and bottle of vinegar.

"Did Dad tell you she's a child genius?" Julie asked.

"She's not a _genius_," Dad said. "She's just clever. And curious."

"Like her big sister," Tami said.

Julie shook her head. "You have no idea, Mom. Do you hear how she talks? She doesn't talk like a five year old."

"I noticed." Tami had not known, however, how much the coma had made the development seem like a sudden leap to her. "She was a curious toddler though."

While Julie called Gracie to help her clean up the chemistry set, Eric led Tami back around to the foyer and walked down the hallway. He showed her Gracie's sizeable bedroom, which contained a nook for a little desk and another nook for a bookcase that was jammed full. Three of the walls were purple, and one was black. The purple walls were splattered all over with an array of stick-ups featuring everything from flowers, soccer balls, and roller skates, to random words (peace, love, ambition, friends, etc.) and cartoon characters. "That's a little…disorganized," Tami said.

"I let her decorate it herself."

"And you let her write on the walls?" She nodded to the diagram on the one black wall. It looked like maybe Gracie had been drawing something she wanted to build out of toilet paper rolls.

"It's that stuff," he said. "Like a chalkboard?" He walked over, found an eraser on Gracie's desk, and erased the number one Gracie had written by the first step of her drawing. "See? I love it. I've got it on the half wall of the loft, for my play diagrams."

When they came out of Gracie's room, he showed her a full bath, which was the next door over. It was a decent size, plainly decorated, with nothing but a white shower curtain. She'd have to do something with that. They came out and he pointed to a closed door. "That's Carolyn's room. I don't go in there. She'll show it to you later if you want I'm sure." Then he pointed to a door at the end of the hall. "That leads to the garage."

He turned her back around to lead her to the master bedroom, which was down a hall off the foyer. Two of their old bedrooms could have fit in it, and she especially liked the attached sitting room, though it needed to be furnished. She looked around for her favorite painting, a vase full of flowers her great uncle had painted, which had hung in the old bedroom, but it was nowhere to be found. She asked about it, and he winced. "Sorry," he said. "Flood got most of the paintings."

Like the living room furniture, the bed, dressers, and nightstands were of sturdy construction, dark, classic, and matching. "You did better with the furniture than I would have expected."

"I have taste."

The bed was unmade. The sheets were solid black, certainly not a color she ever would have chosen, but they were lovely to the touch. He'd mounted a TV above the long dresser across from the bed, where she would have put a mirror. "How many TVs do you have in this house?"

"Just three. Listen," he pressed a hand down on the bed, "I got one of those mattresses where you can adjust your own side. It cost an arm and a leg, but I figured that way I wouldn't pick wrong for you if you ever…woke up."

_If._ He'd lived a year and a half on _if_, not _when_. But still he'd thought of her. She leaned her cane against the bed and draped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Thank you." She toyed with the hair at the back of his head and asked, "Now where are those his and hers closets you promised?"

"Other side of the master bath."

She nearly gasped when he led her into the bathroom. There was an earthen-colored tiled floor with a walk-in, stand-alone, tiled shower. A toilet lodged in a separate little room within the bathroom. "That's how they do it here," he said. "Weird, huh?"

"I like it."

The bathroom had double sinks, and then there was the tub. "Is it jetted?" she asked with excitement.

"Yep. And big enough for two." He grinned.

"What made you willing to splurge on this? You used to be so tight."

He swallowed. "I didn't agree to buy that one really nice house back when you wanted it, you know? And after you went into the coma, I thought…hell. I don't know what I thought."

She leaned against him and kissed his shoulder.

She glanced at the closet door. He went and opened it to reveal a large closet, with a partial dividing wall down the middle. "See," he said. "We each have a side."

She smiled. This was not quite what she had meant by _his and hers_ closets, but it would work. His side was packed, more with boxes than with clothes. Her side had only two boxes.

"You and Julie can go shopping together this weekend."

She insisted on seeing the loft next. Half way up the stairs, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the top. When he set her down, she surveyed the scene. There, almost in the center of the room, was the recliner she'd hoped had been destroyed in the flood. Its bottom was a little discolored, but it was otherwise much as before.

She saw the partial blackboard wall he'd painted covered in his chalk diagrams, but the other three longer walls of the loft where covered in floor-to-ceiling bookcases. There were spaces cut out of the shelving along one wall for a working desk. On another wall of shelves, room had been made for a TV, DVR, and cable box, and on the third wall, for a liquor cabinet. His game tape was arrayed in double stacks on shelves that seemed perfectly sized for the use. The rest of the shelves were stocked with books, more than she remembered packing. A wooden chest/coffee table sat beside the recliner, with an empty whiskey glass atop it.

"This is amazing," she said. "Those bookcases all look _custom made_."

"Yeah. Tim Riggins came down and built all that for me. He needed the money, and I needed someplace to put everything." He shrugged. "Plus, it was kind of nice to have him around for a week. We played some serious ping pong."

"You sure have a lot more books than we put in storage," she observed.

"Yeah, well, after Gracie goes to bed, Carolyn either retreats to her room to study, or goes out with her friends, and it's just me. I actually get tired of watching game tape after a while."

"Not you."

"I always figured if I didn't have you to distract me, I'd watch more. But it turns out you took up a lot more of my time than I realized." He slid an arm around her lower back and kissed the top of her head. "I've been having trouble sleeping too. Some nights I manage 6 or even 7 hours, but most…it's closer to 5. So I've been reading more than I used to."

She surveyed the books, and as she expected, there were plenty of sports biographies, but there was a lot of fiction too. The military and historical fiction she'd seen him read occasionally, but that entire shelf of science-fiction surprised her. "You didn't use to read this stuff," she said, moving forward with the cane and pulling out a copy of _Foundation_.

"Sharon gave me a whole box full. They used to be her husband's. He said he wasn't coming back for his stuff, and she knew I'd been reading a lot. I've tried a few. They're not bad."

She slid the book back on the shelf. "Are you and Sharon good friends?"

"I _had_ to make some friends, Tami." He said it as though she were accusing him of adultery. She thought her tone had been casual, but he must have sensed the fear in it.

"I know," she said quietly. But did it have to be a _woman_? Eric was a man's man! Well…not exactly. He got along with men in a professional capacity, and he did what he had to do to network for his job, but he otherwise preferred to be at home. He wasn't really a man's man. He wasn't anybody's man. Except _hers_.

"Like you made friends with Glen when I was in Austin," he said.

She ran a finger along the spines of the books. It wasn't a fair comparison. He'd been in Austin nine months, not eighteen. They'd been in contact the whole time, talked on the phone daily, seen each other on occasion, and even made love. There was no question whether they would be together again. Besides, Sharon was attractive. Glen was…Glen. "Glen tried to kiss me, if you recall."

"Sharon's never tried to kiss me. You'll like her. You two will hit it off."

Tami didn't want to hit it off with Sharon. She made her way to the liquor cabinet. "Bourbon?" she asked, peering through the glass. "But you're a scotch man!"

"I switched to bourbon after Chuck and I took that trip to Kentucky."

"Who's Chuck?"

"Another friend."

She was relieved to hear he had made more friends than Sharon, and, specifically, a male friend. She was pretty sure there was no chance Chuck was a unisex name.

"About ten months ago, there were some signs you were going to wake up from the coma, but you didn't. I was pissed off and depressed about it, I guess, so Carolyn took Gracie to Great Wolf Lodge for the weekend, and Chuck flew me to Kentucky and we did the entire bourbon trail. Guess I developed a taste for it."

"Is Chuck one of your fellow coaches?"

"Nah. He's a philosophy professor at SAEU."

Tami snorted and then saw his confused expression. "Oh, you're _serious_. Really?"

"He's down to earth though," Eric said. "You'll like him."

"You seem pretty certain I'll like everything." She turned her cane against the carpet and looked around the room again.

"I want you to…I want you to like…everything." He looked nervous, the way he had on their first date - that eager look of expectation when he had given her that single red rose, those eyes that said, _Does this please you? _

She smiled, stepped forward, and hooked a finger through the belt buckle of his khaki shorts. "You've done well with the house, Eric. I like it." She kissed him deeply, and wondered how soon they could go to bed tonight. She needed to experience his desire for her, to know it had not faded.

"Dinner's ready!" Gracie hollered up the stairs, and Tami, breathing hard, pulled away from her husband's lips.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

There was much catching up over dinner. It seemed as if Matt's career was taking off, not so much as an artist, but as an acquirer of art.

He and Julie had set a wedding date, now that Tami was out of the coma – late next May, by which time Julie would be done with her journalism degree. She thought that if her internship went well, she could get a job with the _Chicago Tribune_.

Gracie was starting her first day of Kindergarten on Tuesday – at least Tami would be there for that momentous "first day of school," although Gracie had already gone to Trinity all last year, five half-days a week. It would be newer for Tami than it would be for Gracie.

Eric started asking Tami if she was tired at 7:30. Matt and Julie offered to put Gracie to bed, and they would be sleeping on an inflatable mattress in the office loft. Tami thought it would be better when the au pair was out of the house permanently and they had a guest bedroom again.

Gracie insisted she would be the one reading Matt a bedtime story - _Harold and the Purple Crayon_. "It's a baby book," she said, "but I still like it. Harold's an artist. Matt will get it."

**[FNL]**

The instant the bedroom door closed at 7:50, Eric's lips were on Tami's, and her cane dropped to the ground. She felt her knees buckle, but she didn't think it was because of lack of muscle tone. His mouth made its way to the small of her neck, which he assaulted with greedy nips. She was glad for his hunger, but she also wanted more. "I thought you were going to take your sweet time," she whispered.

He pulled reluctantly away. "You want to try out the Jacuzzi?"

She smiled and nodded.

In the bathroom, he turned on the tub and drew out some tea candles from under one of the sinks. He set them all around the stone rim of the tub, lit them, and flicked off the bathroom light while the water tumbled in a steady, soothing stream. Slowly, he began to undress her.

"You know I haven't regained all of my muscle," she said. "I don't look as good as I use– "

"- You look beautiful," he insisted, and continued his slow work, caressing her with his eyes. He lowered her into the tub and then stripped off his own clothes. He was more muscular than she remembered, especially across the chest.

"Have you been lifting a lot of weights?" she asked. "Who were you trying to look good for while I was in that coma?"

"I was angry. It helped. There's a clubhouse two streets down. It's part of our HOA dues. You'll – "

" – like it," she finished for him.

His smile was abashed and adorable. "Sorry." He slid in behind her, his legs on either side of her own, and told her to push the beige button. The jets whirred to life.

Tami eased back against his chest and raised her arms until she had linked her hands behind his neck, which gave him free access to her breasts. He caressed them lazily and thoroughly, kneading and cupping and then lightly pinching her nipples. He put his lips to her ear, and over the roar of the jets, she could hear the murmur of his deep voice: "Do you know how many times I've thought of doing this to you?"

They spent twenty minutes in the warm spray, kissing, teasing, and exploring, before he pushed off the jets and carried her to bed.

In twenty years of marriage (almost twenty-two now, Tami remind herself), the quality of the sex varied. Tonight, for Tami, it was _good_. But for her husband, it was clearly far more than good. She could tell by all of the _yeses_, and _oh-Gods_, and _God-yes-Tami_s he moaned, but especially by the way he trembled for so long afterward.

When his body finally stilled, he leaned in and kissed her bare shoulder. "That was fantastic," he said, his breath still not quite steady. "That was…that's was the best sex we've had in…that was fantastic, wasn't it?"

"It _was_ fantastic," she said, even though for her it had been merely good. She was pleased to see the strength of his reaction. It reassured her that he'd been faithful. She wondered what it must feel like, to have gone without sex for so long. Of course she had too, but she had no _conscious_ feeling that she had.

"Damn I missed making love to you."

She giggled. "I could tell."

They moved into the spoon position, and Eric pulled the blankets up. Tami was comforted by the way their bodies seemed to fit so naturally together. She awoke sometime in the night, however, and saw that he had turned away, his back toward hers. He was sprawled out over two-thirds of the bed, having pushed her into a corner, and he was cuddling a pillow. She'd wondered why he had started sleeping with three pillows instead of two.

He'd have to get used to having her in his bed again. She smiled and turned, scooted her back tightly against his, and was soon asleep.

**[FNL]**

In the morning, Tami awoke to the press of Eric's lips on her cheek and the feel of his erection against the back of her thigh. "You want to fool around?" he asked.

Usually, the uninvited poke of morning wood annoyed her. She would groggily slap him away and go back to sleep. But this morning, she was keenly aware of how long he'd been deprived. "Sure," she said. "Let me just freshen up."

"I already brushed my teeth," he told her, apparently pleased with his planning.

She made her way to their bathroom and back with the help of the cane, and soon enough, his touch had awakened her fully. After they made love, they both drifted back to sleep again, until his alarm awoke them.

"What the hell?" she asked in response to its loud blare.

"I have to get ready," he said, sliding his way out of bed and turning the alarm off. "You keep sleeping. Julie'll wrangle Gracie this morning." He yanked on a clean pair of boxers from the night stand. He stood and walked to the larger dresser, from which he retrieved a pair of khaki shorts and blue polo. When he had those on, he quickly and roughly brushed his hair with his fingers and threw on his SAEU cap.

"That's it?" she asked from bed. "You aren't going to take a shower?"

"I'm barely going to be on time," he said, "which means I'm late."

He came over and kissed her.

"You're going to smell like sex," she warned him.

"I've smelled of worse things." He kissed her again and left.

**[FNL]**

Tami took a slow time getting dressed by herself. When she made her way out to the living room and settled onto the couch, Julie was curled into the arm chair reading a book called _Who Says Print is Dead?_ She could see Matt in the kitchen, frying bacon. "I'll have breakfast for us soon, Mrs. Coach," he said. She wondered if, after he and Julie had been married for a few years, Matt would call her _Mom_.

Tami was glad to see Gracie lying stomach down on the carpet, brushing the hair of a Barbie doll. It was such a normal, girlish action. Tami had wondered if she'd ever be able to do childish things with her daughter, but Gracie looked very much like a little girl now.

"Are you styling their hair?" Tami asked. "Want me to help with one?"

Gracie grabbed a second Barbie and handed it to her mother. "You can brush too," she said as she delivered another tiny brush.

"You want me to put in a hair band? Do you have any accessories?"

"No," Gracie said decidedly. "I'm going to dye their hair. I made dyes with my chemistry set."

"Oh," Tami said. So that's what the food coloring mess had been.

Gracie studied her mother. "I like your color hair." She looked at the Barbies. "Blonde is so boring." She frowned.

"You have beautiful blonde hair," Tami insisted. "And there's certainly nothing boring about you."

After breakfast, they all went to the mall, with Matt taking Gracie off to ride the carousel, do the bungee trampoline, and run through the laser maze. Tami had never seen such things in a mall before. The mall in Dillon was fairly well confined to stores and a food court.

Meanwhile, she and Julie picked out a new wardrobe for her. Julie had insisted on renting a shopping cart / wheelchair (which the mall had at guest services) so things would move more quickly than they would have with Tami hobbling about using the cane. Tami resisted at first, but eventually admitted she couldn't traverse the entire mall for hours.

She had a great time with her daughter, the best, perhaps, she'd had in years. Julie seemed finally to have grown up, and they were talking to one another like adult friends. "You've really matured," Tami told her. "It _is_ that, isn't it? It's not because I've been in a coma and you don't think of me as your mom anymore?"

"I just want to settle down," Julie said. "I want to marry Matt and have a boring life like you and Dad. _Without_ the excitement of a coma."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The house was quiet Sunday morning when Tami arose. The refrigerator hummed softly in the kitchen as she stood leaning against her cane, wondering what color she wanted to repaint the cabinets. She'd almost decided when the doorbell rang.

When Tami answered the door, she did not immediately recognize the woman standing before her. The dark brown hair that had been in a ponytail two days before now billowed to midway down the woman's back, and her jogging clothes had been replaced with a black skirt, pale pink blouse, and high heeled boots.

"Hi," the woman said with a smile. She was holding a green, potted plant with some sort of phallic like flower emerging from the middle. "I'm Sharon Middleton. I live three doors down. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I saw Eric driving you home the other day, but I was in the middle of a run and couldn't stop." She extended the plant and then seemed to realize Tami couldn't possible claim it while leaning on a cane. She pulled it back.

"Come on in," Tami told her, backed up, and motioned to her grandmother's cherry, gateleg table, which Eric had placed in the foyer. That heirloom, thankfully, had survived the flood, but Tami was still sad that her favorite flower painting from her uncle had not.

"You can put it there," Tami told her.

After Sharon had set the plant down, the woman stood awkwardly in the foyer. "Sorry to come over so early, but I know Eric usually leaves for church in an hour, and I didn't want to miss you before I headed off for work."

Sharon seemed a pleasant enough woman. It was thoughtful of her to bring the plant – unless, of course, she'd really only wanted to see Eric. She had apparently expected him to be awake by now. Sharon knew an awful lot about his schedule. Well, _one_ thing about it, anyway.

Sharon looked down the hall. Was she hoping for Eric to emerge? How often had she been in this house?

"We should have you and your husband over for a barbecue sometime," Tami said, even though she knew full well about the divorce. "Eric makes a great brisket."

"Uh…yeah. That would be lovely. I'm going through a divorce, though. I thought Eric might have told you?"

"Maybe he did," Tami said. "I'm sorry to hear that. It's always sad when that happens."

"Not always," Sharon said. "In my case, it was for the better. He cheated. More than once." She shook her head. "I guess it was a bad idea not to follow him when he went to Korea. But I'd just gotten a serious promotion. I made partner at my law firm."

She was a lawyer? Smart, capable, _and_ attractive? And _this_ was the one Shelley had dismissed as no threat?

"Oh," was all Tami could think to say.

"Eric says you used to be a high school counselor," Sharon said.

"Yes, I was." She hastened to add, "I was _supposed_ to have become Dean of Admissions of Braemore college, but that fell through because of the coma. We were going to move to Philadelphia."

"I think it's admirable Eric would have been willing to follow you. My husband wasn't willing to stay here for my career."

"Well, being in the military is – "

"- Oh, he didn't go to Korea because he's in the _military_. He's not _stationed_ there. He took a job offer at an international office there. He's a business man. It was only supposed to be a two-year assignment, and then he'd be back at the Texas office, so I figured…" She shrugged. "But two years is just too long, I guess. It's too long for a man to stay faithful."

"It's _not_ too long," Tami insisted.

Sharon smiled apologetically. "Yes. Of course. I didn't mean…Eric's a great guy." She glanced down the hallway again. "Well, I better be going. It was nice to meet you." She extended her hand and Tami shook it. "Tell Eric I said hi."

Just as the door closed, Eric stumbled his way out of the bedroom, yawning. "Everyone still asleep?" he asked. Tami nodded. "Who was at the door?"

"Sharon."

"Oh. Sorry I missed her." He glanced at the plant on the gateleg table. "Well that was nice of her." He turned and began walking toward the kitchen. "Want me to make coffee?"

"I made it," Tami said. "I'm not a complete invalid. I may not be Dean of Admissions, or a partner in a law firm, but I'm not an invalid."

He stopped and turned around and peered at her cautiously. "Good morning," he said. "I love you."

She shook her head at herself. "I love you too. Pour me a cup."

As he stumbled toward the kitchen, he said, "I've got to get Gracie up for church."

**[FNL]**

Matt and Julie could not be stirred from bed to join them for worship, so Gracie, Eric, and Tami went without them.

An Episcopal service was not the kind of re-introduction to church Tami needed at the moment. There was standing and sitting and kneeling and standing and sitting and kneeling again. (She chose simply to sit through most of that.) Communion wasn't passed along the row in a circular plate – she had to make her way to the altar for it.

Afterwards, she was surrounded by a cloud of curious onlookers, all eager to meet "Coach Taylor's wife." That's what she was again, suddenly, the coach's wife. Not even the counselor, let alone the dean – but the coach's wife.

Two of Eric's assistant coaches attended the church; one looked to be about half Eric's age, and the other twice. It was the priest, however, who chatted with Tami the longest, while Eric disappeared to talk with his young offensive coordinator over coffee and donuts in the foyer. She was a little taken aback when "Father Andrew" (they called the pastor "father" here) said something about "the metaphor of the Resurrection" and "the symbolism we express when we say we believe in God."

Gracie fell asleep on the drive home, and that was when Tami asked Eric, "What do you like about this church?"

"Two of my coaches and three of my players go there. I get that 20% discount on Gracie's school tuition by being a member. And they had a great parish Superbowl party last year."

"We don't go to church for the Super Bowl parties, sugar." She told him about the odd conversation she'd had with the priest. "I don't think he believes the Resurrection actually happened."

Erich shrugged. "Yeah. I think he's an agnostic."

"He's a _priest_," Tami said. "What are they teaching Gracie at that school you send her to?"

"Math and literature and history and science. A week ago you were worried the school would be too conservative!"

She shook her head. "Listen, I'm no fundamentalist, but I at least want my preacher to believe in God!"

He glanced at her. "Twenty percent, Tami. That's a lot of money. And it's a good school. Also, the church had kettle corn at the Superbowl party." He looked back at the road. "And they have an annual crawfish boil."

"Good Lord."

**[FNL]**

A row was reserved for them in the front of the bleachers at the stadium. The SAEU Saints were playing some university team Tami hated to admit she had never heard of. Of course, she'd never heard of the Saints two weeks ago either.

She needed a little help from Matt getting up the steps, even if she didn't want to admit it. She waved and blew a kiss to Eric at the sidelines, and he smiled and waved back, but he didn't look to the stands for the rest of the game. She hated to think, that after a full season without her, he was accustomed to her absence.

Tami couldn't quite get used to the color of his cap and polo shirt, which was a strange blue, brighter even than the Panthers blue. She'd been preparing herself to see him in Pioneers dark green and thinking he would look particularly good in the color before she went into the coma. This color didn't suit him at all, although the job must have, because he was in his element this evening. From the surprised sound of the crowd, they weren't expected to win the game, but the SAEU Saints did, just barely.

Eric was a sweaty mess when he came and hugged her after the game, a victim of the early Texas September.

That night, they drove Matt and Julie to the airport, and Tami couldn't help but cry a little when she saw her daughter leave.

**[FNL]**

Eric drove to Trinity on Gracie's first day of kindergarten. He and Tami walked their daughter to her classroom. The school was attached to the Episcopal church they'd attended on Sunday, but it more or less had its own buildings.

Tami could tell Gracie was slightly embarrassed by her mother's cane, and Tami herself was a little overwhelmed by all the friendly greetings she received from administrators, teachers, and fellow parents who seemed to know Eric, or at least know him as Gracie's father. Everyone expressed their happiness that she had emerged from the coma. "I bet Coach Taylor's ecstatic," Gracie's old pre-K teacher told her. "And Gracie too," she hastened to add.

Gracie hugged both of her parents before disappearing into her classroom, and she didn't have to be reminded to hug Tami this time, though she hugged her father first. Gracie immediately started talking to the girl who sat next to her, which was a relief to Tami, who wondered if the girl would be able to make friends her own age given her rather advanced interests.

Tami counted the desks in the room before they turned away. Twelve. It was a good size. There would have been over twenty in the public school classroom.

They made their way to the fellowship hall, where the principal was holding a parent orientation as the school day started. Tami had a lot of questions, and she could tell the principal was growing a little weary of them by the time the orientation wrapped up.

As they drove back home, Eric to drop Tami off and head to work, she said, "I think you chose well. I think the school is going to be challenging, and I love the flexibility of their educational approach."

"Do you? You sure didn't sound like it the way you were grilling Principal McKinley."

"I just want to make sure I understand how they operate. That's all."

When she got into the house, the au pair was putting away the dishes from breakfast. Tami sat down on the stool at the kitchen bar, her back to the living room.

"Want a cup of coffee?" Carolyn asked. "I just made fresh."

"I'll get it myself." Tami began to slide off the stool.

"Stay!" Carolyn insisted and retrieved the cup for her.

Tami thanked her, but not as pleasantly as she would have if Eric or Julie had brought it to her. She was trying to imagine how humiliating it was going to be to have this girl around, helping her to cook and clean and care for her own daughter. She used to fantasize about an au pair the first year after Gracie was born, but now that she had one, she only felt usurped.

"So," Carolyn said, "Coach Taylor's practice and game and meeting schedule is here." She pointed to a white board attached to the side of the refrigerator. "And mine's here." She tapped the piece of paper next to it, which was printed out and attached by a magnet. "His schedule changes at the last minute sometimes."

"I'm aware," Tami said. "I've been a coach's wife for eighteen years."

"I thought you were married longer that."

"Well, I was in the coma. And he wasn't a coach when we first got married."

"Yeah. Anyway, if you need me to do something…anything…I don't just help with Gracie. I do a lot around the house."

"I hope my husband hasn't been expecting too much of you."

"Oh, God no," Carolyn said. "He's the best employer I've ever worked for. The last kids I nannied…so spoiled. And the parents expected me to do _everything_ for them. I was practically working around the clock." She winced. "Sorry. I shouldn't talk about other people like that. But Coach Taylor makes sure I have plenty of time off. Some of these parents…it's like they don't want to see their kids more than thirty minutes a day. But Coach Taylor wants to spend a good amount of time with Gracie."

"So do I," Tami said. Which begged the question – how much longer would Carolyn really be needed here?

Carolyn bit her bottom lip. "I know." She looked down into her coffee cup. It occurred to Tami that she was perhaps afraid of losing her job.

Tami tried to put her bitterness aside. "What's your major?" she asked in as friendly a voice as she could muster.

"I'm double majoring in British literature and early childhood education. I think I want to teach first or second grade."

"Well, I guess this is a good job for you then. Although, if you weren't doing this, you might be able to work at a preschool until you graduate." If she gave the girl ideas for other jobs, perhaps she could push her gently out the door without seeming to.

"A preschool salary might cover my tuition, but then I'd still need room and board." She looked right at Tami. "I'm lucky to have this job. Coach Taylor says I've been very helpful to him."

"I'm sure you have." But Tami was home now, and this couldn't go on forever. She'd never agreed to another _full_ school year of this girl. That had been Eric's unilateral proclamation.

"I can do laundry," Carolyn said. "You got a new wardrobe, right? I can wash that when I get back from my morning class and before I pick Gracie up from school."

"Oh, I'll pick Gracie up from school," Tami insisted. Granted, she hadn't driven a car yet since she got home. People had been driving her. But if she could walk with the cane, surely she could drive. And she, not Carolyn, should be the one listening to Gracie's report of her first day of Kindergarten.

"Okay, but I'll cook dinner," Carolyn insisted. "You'll be having your physical therapy this evening, right?"

Tami supposed she could let Carolyn have that one task. "Fine." She lifted her coffee cup to her lips and blew softly. "And I suppose you can do the laundry, if you really want."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

September gave way to October, and the weather cooled off to a more bearable high of 80 degrees. The SAEU Saints had won three of their five games. Tami had been growing stronger through her physical therapy. She looked forward to her sessions with Wanda, and especially to the glass of wine and conversation they shared afterward, which Tami considered to be the best part of her recovery program. Eric had agreed to pay Wanda's commuting expenses three days a week, though Tami relied on a local physical therapist the other four days.

"Girl, I thought you were wrong not to take the walker when you left," Wanda told her as she packed up the compact rehabilitation equipment she'd brought, "but now I think maybe you've been getting better faster because you've just been using the cane. Your stubbornness is your best ally."

Tami tapped the cane she'd rested against the living room couch. "I can't wait to be rid of this too."

"Patience," Wanda said, and then asked with a smile, "Is it wine down time?"

"You bet it is."

Carolyn had picked Gracie up from school this afternoon, and then the au pair was taking the girl to the park, which gave Tami time to chat with Wanda.

"How are things going with Gracie?" Wanda asked when they were settled on the kitchen bar stools.

Tami had been working hard to reconnect with her daughter. "We're getting closer, but it's hard, you know? I'm not the center of her world anymore, the way I was before I went into the coma." Tami supposed that shift would have happened eventually even if she hadn't slipped into a coma, simply as Gracie grew and changed and became her own little person, but it was a shock to have it happen _overnight_. It didn't help that Gracie had another semi-mother figure in the house.

Tami had to admit, Carolyn was good with Gracie. The au pair was inventive, fun, intelligent, and responsible. She had obviously been making an effort not to step on Tami's territory, though it was also clear Carolyn was awkwardly confused as to what remained of her role. Tami thought it was best that they soon give the girl a few weeks' notice so that she had time to find a new living situation by the time football season was over. After that, Eric and Tami could handle things themselves.

"Eric and I are going to end up fighting about it, I know," she told Wanda. "He promised Carolyn a full year. He didn't even _ask_ me first."

When Wanda had cleared out of the house, Tami got on the computer and began her internet search for a part-time job. She would wait a year to go back to work full-time, she thought. Even Wonder Woman had to take some time to heal. Her hunt was interrupted by the doorbell.

Sharon Middleton stood on the other side, holding a cardboard box. "Hi," she said when Tami opened the door. "I brought some more books for Eric."

"Come in," Tami told her, and motioned for her to put the box on the foyer floor. "Eric's still at work. He works late during football season."

"I know," Sharon said. "Can you let him know I stopped by and that those are the last of Mark's books? I thought someone should have them. I'm not going to be my ex-husband's storage unit."

"Sure," Tami replied. "Although I don't know how much shelf space he has left upstairs.

"Well, he's got that one shelf with the awards and trophies. He could double those up."

Had Sharon actually been in the loft, invited into the inner sanctuary of Eric's man cave?

"Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?" Tami asked, even though she had no coffee on and no real desire to be friendly with Sharon at the moment. She'd only seen the woman in passing in the neighborhood since moving in. They'd communicated in casual waves and "How are yous?" Eric had gone over to Sharon's house once, in the evening, in response to a plea to help move a small refrigerator from her loft into her garage, and he hadn't come back for forty minutes.

Sharon glanced at her watch. "I appreciate the invite, but I have a briefing in half an hour."

_Ah yes, the career woman_, Tami thought. _I was going to be a career woman once._

**[FNL]**

Tami needed a project. She had no job and, as of yet, no real friends to speak of. She'd gotten to know a few people at church, and they were friendly during coffee hour, but those relationships had not extended beyond the church doors. (She'd resigned herself to attending the church with the agnostic priest. Gracie and Eric both seemed to like it there, and the sermons were short.)

So this morning, while the au pair was in class and Gracie was in school, Tami decided to straighten her daughters' room.

Gracie lived in a disorganized mess. The enormity of the explosion of paper and books and toys and clothes disturbed Tami. "You haven't made her clean up after herself?" she'd asked Eric. Eric was fairly neat himself, in most things, so it surprised her that he could tolerate it.

"I just keep the door shut," he'd said.

"And Carolyn hasn't encouraged her to straighten up either?"

"Oh, she has, Tami. She came up with all sorts of stars and charts and rewards and consequences, but it's like fighting the whirlwind. Sometimes you have to pick your battles. You'll see."

Tami was determined to pick this battle. She fought it with Gracie for five days straight before she threw in the white flag of surrender and decided if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself.

Now, she began to organize Gracie's things. She knew the structure would soon be destroyed, but at least she could weed out some of the excess first.

The last year and a half of Gracie's life was mapped out in tangled lines in that room. There were old books someone else had read to her, forgotten drawings Tami had never been able to applaud, games they hadn't played together, toys she'd never seen light up her daughter's eyes when first received, and preschool papers – stacks and stacks of preschool papers shoved into Gracie's desk drawers. Tami kneeled on the floor to pull them out, and she began to page through them one by one, seeing Gracie quickly leave the curriculum worksheets and start creating work of her own. Tami witnessed all the progress she had slept through month after month after month.

She leaned back against her daughter's bed and felt the weight of the papers in her hands, the weight of eighteen months of lost time, of learning, of growth, of _becoming_ the person Gracie _was_. That child she had known, that brand new, little preschooler – that child was gone now. She was simply gone, and she would never exist again, and this girl that had come to take her place had appeared like a sudden flash. Tami hadn't seen the strands gathering one by one and weaving this independent personality, as she would have if she had been awake.

She had lost an entire year and a half of her daughter's life.

She had lost it, and she could never get it back.

There, with her back against the low bed, and the papers slipping from her hands, Tami began to weep.

Minutes later, Carolyn's soft voice broke through the sobs. "Mrs. Taylor?" The young woman's hand was on her shoulder. "Are you okay? Did you have a fall?"

Tami shoved the girl's hand away. "No! I didn't have a fall! I'm perfectly capable of not falling! I'm not feeble!"

Carolyn, who had been crouching beside her, crawled back a few steps, but she didn't leave.

"I'm so sorry," Tami muttered. "I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just…I guess I just realized how _much_ I've lost. You saw it all…you saw Gracie…and I…" She wiped at her eyes with her fingers and began to struggle into a standing position.

Carolyn helped her into Gracie's desk chair. Tami let her. She wasn't weak from the coma. She was weak from the knowledge of her loss. When Tami was seated, Carolyn sat on Gracie's bed.

"We looked at photo albums every week," Carolyn said. "Me and Gracie. And we watched home videos of you. She didn't forget you, you know."

"You don't understand."

"No," Carolyn said, "I don't. I'm twenty-one. There's a lot of things I don't _understand_. But that doesn't mean I can't _sympathize_. I know what it's like to see someone you love change and to feel like you missed an opportunity. I watched my dad slip into dementia. I mean, I know it's a completely different thing, I just mean….I know what it's like to feel….something," she finished lamely.

Tami dried the remaining tears on her cheek. "I'm sorry you've been through that. I went through that with my dad too, toward the end."

Carolyn toyed with Gracie's purple bed sheet. "I know you'd like me to leave this job."

"Honey, I never said – "

" – You didn't _have_ to say it, Mrs. Taylor. And I don't blame you. You want your old life back. And I'm in the way."

Tami shook her head. "No. I mean, you're right. I did want my old life back. But I can't have that, and it's time for me to acknowledge that. I need to start a _new_ life."

"Damien asked me to move in with him. His roommate dropped out of college and he's all alone in that apartment."

Tami smiled faintly. That had been Eric's excuse in college too. Not, I want you to live with me, but, I need a roommate.

"He has a full scholarship including a housing allowance, so it won't cost me anything. I told him I'd think about it. And I think…I think I should. I should start applying for other jobs and move in with him."

Tami didn't know what to say. She felt horribly selfish. "Carolyn, there's no rush. You can stay as – "

"- I need to start a new life too, Mrs. Taylor. _I'm_ ready to start a new life. I can still babysit for you guys sometimes. I don't want to lose contact with Gracie."

"I wouldn't want you to either," Tami said. "You're important to her. You're like family to her." And to Eric, she supposed. Like a third daughter, almost. "I'm sorry if I've come off as if I don't like you. I _do_. I've just been…trying to figure it all out. But you've been a godsend to this family."

Carolyn smiled.

"And, honey, don't ever move in with some guy just because you need a place to stay. You can stay here as long as you like. You – "

"- I _want_ to move in with him. I love him. I didn't mention him to Coach Taylor until recently – Damien asked me not to - but we've actually been dating for a year."

The front door slammed. Eric's voice drifted from the foyer. "After you show me your ideas, you're going to shut up about all this. Agreed?"

"Yes, sir," came a young man's voice.

Carolyn's eyes brightened.

"Blackboard's upstairs," Eric said. "You draw out the plays, I'll think about them, and you'll shut up about them. That's the deal."

"Yes, sir."

"And I guess you can stay for dinner."

Footsteps padded up the stairs to the loft.

"Damien's here," Carolyn said. She stood. "But I guess I better leave them alone, huh? They're talking football." She rolled her eyes.

Tami stood also. "I know the feeling, honey. Trust me, I know the feeling."

**[FNL]**

Carolyn found a job as a preschool teacher in less than a week. She'd had sterling references, after all.

Eric accepted her resignation with disappointment. "I'm keeping you on speed dial," he told her. "And if Damien ever does wrong by you – "

"- I know," Carolyn said.

"You should have at least stayed until the end of football season."

"This new job is a good opportunity for me. I want to be a teacher someday."

Gracie cried when she left, but Carolyn's assurance that she would return regularly to babysit soothed her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

After Gracie was in bed, Tami sat at the work desk in Eric's loft and organized the domestic file drawer. She needed another project to busy herself, and this one seemed as good as any. Eric meanwhile sat in his recliner watching game tape and taking notes.

Tami had started by going through the overstuffed file folder labeled "Bills." She wasn't sure why he'd kept all this. When she was in charge of the finances, she only kept two months of statements at a time and shredded the rest, unless they were needed for tax purposes. She was now shredding anything older than two months.

Because the "Bills" file had become tattered, Tami decided to label a new one. As she was reaching for a plain folder in the back of the drawer, she noticed a magazine wedged between the empty folders and pulled it out. _Playboy._ She flopped it so that it fell naturally open to the most worn spot. "I see you like the redhead," she said.

"What?" Eric muttered without looking away from the game.

"The redhead. She's well creased." Tami thumbed the pages to the next crease. "Hmmm…this one's a redhead too. Never knew you had such a thing for the redheads. And that's an interesting position. It looks uncomfortable though."

As he looked over toward her, she turned the spread out to face him. He flushed and tossed the remote and legal pad on the chest before scrambling out of his recliner. Eric grabbed the magazine from her hands. He tossed it in the trashcan where she'd already emptied the shredder once. He stooped and buried it under the ripped pieces of paper. Then he returned to his recliner, sat down, grabbed his legal pad, and stared at it fiercely.

"Sweetheart," she cooed, "now that I'm not in a coma anymore, I'd appreciate it if you'd cancel your subscription."

"I don't _have_ a subscription. I was going to throw it away before you came home, but I forgot where it was."

She shook her head. "Well good thing Gracie didn't stumble on it."

"What would Gracie be doing in my file drawer?"

"You said you didn't know where you put it," Tami reminded him.

He looked up from his legal pad, now too irritated to be embarrassed. "Well I knew I didn't put it in her toy chest! Look, you were in a _coma_ for _eighteen months_."

"I didn't say anything about it."

"You said _plenty_ about it."

"You want me to dye my hair, sweetheart?" she teased.

"No, I don't want you to dye your hair! Your hair is beautiful. Your hair is perfect."

"Not too much blonde with the red? I guess you weren't really looking at her hair though, were you?"

"Would you please just stop?"

"I'd try out that position that second redhead was in, but it really does look uncomfortable, and I'm probably going to need a little more physical therapy first."

He rubbed his eyes.

"You know what I love about you, sugar?" she asked.

"That you can ridicule me so easily?"

"No." She crossed her legs and leaned forward and smiled at him. "That even in this age of Internet technology, when you can have anything you could possibly want at a click of a button, you're still classic enough to be satisfied by a simple girly mag. It's all you need."

He looked directly at her. "I needed _you_."

She offered him her half-smiling pout, the one that said she found him adorable and perhaps a little lost and that her heart was full of love for him.

He swallowed. "I did. I missed you." His voice was a low whisper when he said, "You have no idea how much."

Tami came over to the recliner, not even noticing that she'd left her cane leaned against the desk. She took the legal pad from his lap, paused the game tape, and straddled him in the recliner. His expressive eyes searched hers, and she leaned down to kiss him deeply. Tami nipped his ear and whispered, "You don't need that anymore, babe. I want to be your fantasy."

"You are." His lips were warm and hungry on hers as he tugged her blouse free from her skirt. His strong hands were cool against her bare back when he urged her closer. She broke free of his lips and glanced over the railing of the loft to the dark and empty foyer below. "Gracie's asleep," he reminded her before sliding his hands up her back and unclasping her bra.

As he kneaded her breasts, she pushed against his lap and murmured, "You _did_ miss me."

"Uh-huh…" He caught her bottom lip in a gentle bite.

Tami ran her hands over his white T-shirt, down the muscles of his chest, and to his belt buckle, which she undid hastily before popping the top button of his jeans. His zipper rasped as she yanked it down, and she found his lips again as she pushed his jeans and boxers down toward his knees.

Eric hiked up her skirt and slid a finger beneath the edge of her panties. "Oh you naughty good girl. You're ready already."

She laughed at his word choice, but not for long, because he pushed her underwear aside just enough to ease into her, and her chuckle gave way to a moan.

The recliner rocked with the strength of their desire for each other. She bit the leather to stifle a cry. It was Eric's low drawl in her ear, commanding, "Come for me, Tami" that finally sent her over, and he soon followed.

She was collapsed against his chest, breathing hard, when a door shut downstairs. Tami scurried off the chair, straightened her panties and skirt, and reclasped her bra while Eric yanked up his pants and zipped and buttoned them.

Tami walked over and sat back at the desk while Eric stared straight at the paused game on the TV, catching his breath.

A toilet flushed. A door opened and closed again. "Daddy?" Gracie yelled from downstairs. "I just went to the bathroom and I'm going back to bed now."

"Okay!" he called back. "Thanks for the report!"

And then Gracie's bedroom door closed and they both burst out laughing.

"Well, I see she hasn't lost her sexdar," Tami said. "I guess some things haven't changed."

Eric looked at her cane leaned against the desk. "You didn't use it at all, you know, when you walked over here and back."

"I know," Tami said with a big smile.

He grinned. "We should have quickies more often. They're clearly good therapy for you." He lifted the remote. "Is it okay if I – "

"- Go ahead," she said with a teasing smile. "I got what I wanted."

He smiled and unpaused his game tape.

Tami resumed her project. "Anything else you should warn me I might stumble on while I'm organizing this mess?"

"Well, if you're snooping into credit card bills, you might find a charge for season tickets to the Cowboys last season, and it might be more than you'd have been willing to pay. I didn't get them again this season."

As a matter of fact, she had a credit card bill in her hand right now, from April. "What about the two plane tickets to Los Angeles?"

"Had to meet with two new recruits. And I made a few coaching contacts while I was there."

"Why did _you_ pay for the tickets instead of the school?"

"I got reimbursed for mine."

"Why two? Did you take Gracie?" She couldn't imagine he had, not on a working trip, not without taking the au pair, and there weren't _three_ tickets. She felt a fluttering in her stomach, a faint fear, a hint of doubt she quickly suppressed.

"What's with the Spanish Inquisition? I took _Chuck_. As a thank you for taking me on the bourbon trail."

"When am I meeting Chuck, anyway?" Eric mentioned the man periodically and had gone to his house to play poker twice in the past month, but Chuck didn't go to their church or live in their neighborhood or even come to the home football games. Tami was growing curious about the philosophy professor.

"We'll have him over for dinner next Saturday," Eric said. "I'll grill. I'll invite Sharon too."

Why was it necessary to invite Sharon? Tami stuck the credit card bill in the shredder and let the machine whine out her own irritation.

At least Sharon wasn't a redhead.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Sharon arrived first for the Saturday evening cook-out, bearing a bottle of Malbec, and not a cheap Malbec either. Tami had to admit the woman had good taste, but she had already opened a Chardonnay, so she played the casual hostess and offered Sharon a glass.

Tami thought Sharon was dressed rather nicely for a barbecue, but perhaps she'd just come from work. The lawyer had, however, loosened the top two buttons of her blouse, enough to reveal a little cleavage. Tami probably wasn't in a position to judge her for that, given her own tight and flattering shirt, but she judged her anyway.

"You two chat," Eric told them as he grabbed a large plate. "I've got to grill. Send Chuck out when he gets here." He called for Gracie to come outside with him. There was a wooden swing tied to a tree in the back yard, and Gracie ran for it. Despite the limited space between houses on the side, the fenced-in backyard was a decent size, though much of it was taken up by an awning (complete with ceiling fans), patio, grill, and patio furniture.

Sharon watched Eric leave out the kitchen door before taking a seat on one of the dark wood barstools. "I like these," she told Tami. "I helped Eric pick them out. He originally wanted to get something with the Cowboys logo, so you can thank me for sparing you."

Tami sat next to her and looked at her cautiously. "You went shopping together?" The quality of the new furniture did make somewhat more sense in that context, but Eric had said Gracie was his only co-shopper.

"No. He was just thinking of ordering them from a catalog and I redirected his attention to another page." Sharon waved behind herself at the living room furniture. "He picked out all that himself, before I met him. The barstools, though, were a later addition."

Silence fell between them, and Tami tried to think of something to say. "So. You're a partner in your law firm now?"

Sharon nodded. "It's a ton of work. I don't have time for much of anything anymore. Not for dating, that's for sure."

Maybe Tami imagined it, but she thought Sharon was watching Eric through the kitchen window as she said those words. "Well, you _did_ just recently get divorced," Tami reminded her. "No hurry I guess, right?"

"I'm not getting any younger." Sharon sipped her wine. "And it's not as if Markdidn't start moving on while we were _still_ married." She swallowed another sip with a bitter hiss. "Sorry. I barely know you and I'm talking about _my_ problem, when you had to go through a coma." She shook her head. "How weird is it, coming out of that, finding your life all changed?"

"Pretty weird," Tami agreed. She took a long drought of her wine and wished Eric would come back inside.

"You ever meet this Chuck guy?" Sharon asked.

Tami shook her head.

"He was supposed to be here last time I came over, but he cancelled at the last minute."

The _last_ time she came over? How often had Eric invited Sharon for dinner? "So…it just turned out to be you and Eric?"

"And my father," Sharon asked. "He was in town and Eric wanted to meet him. He used to be the offensive coordinator for the Longhorns."

"Ah." Tami _had_ wondered what Eric had in common with this woman and why he would consider her a friend. "Do you like football?" she asked.

Sharon shrugged. "My father was a college football coach. I didn't have a choice but to like it, or at least _know_ a lot about it."

"I can see why Eric would like you."

Sharon chuckled. "That's not why. He likes me because I specialize in sports law, and his first season with the Saints, my firm got the school out of a bit of a jam involving a Title IX issue." Sharon leaned toward Tami. "A girl tried out for the team as a walk-on, and your husband didn't cross his t's and dot his i's when he cut her. She sued SAEU. He thought he was going to lose his job over it, and he'd just _gotten_ the job."

Tami shook her head. "That man can never have a peaceful, politics-free season."

"Schools are full of politics. But I guess you know that. You were going to be the Dean of Admissions of an almost ivy, weren't you?"

"Yes, _was_," Tami said. She hoped she didn't sound too bitter.

"What do you want to do now? Do you want to go back to being a high school counselor?"

"You know I used to do that?" Tami asked.

"Eric talked about you a lot. I think he liked having one female friend just so he could have someone to talk about his wife with. "

"I don't know," Tami said. "It would feel like a step back if I became a high school counselor again."

Sharon set her wine glass down with a clink. "That's a powerful position when you think about it, though. Those kids are deciding the course of their futures, which is _our_ future as a nation. They're on the cusp of becoming the people they're going to be, and you get to direct them."

Tami smiled. "I did feel that way when I was working the job. That was why I didn't follow Eric to Austin when he got a coaching job with TMU." She sighed. "Which was a mistake on my part. We should have stuck together."

"Why do men always assume their careers have to come first? And we're just supposed to…" Sharon picked up her glass and waved it. "Follow them around."

"Eric actually offered to stay in Dillon, but I wanted to be supportive. I didn't want him to give up his dream for me."

"When Mark and I first started having problems, Eric told me I should just sell the house and follow him to Korea. But Mark was only going to be at that office for two years. And I said to Eric – would _you_ do that for _your_ wife? And that's when he told me about his plan to follow you to Philadelphia, and how he really didn't want to at first, but sometimes you have to take turns." She sighed. "Maybe he was right, but I was starting to feel like it was _always_ Mark's turn."

"I felt like that too with Eric when I got the offer, but I still told him I was going to turn down the dean's position."

"So he offered to move _after_ you agreed to turn down the job?"

Tami nodded.

Sharon peered at her with disbelief. "You'd have been willing to give up your dream and career for him?"

"We'd been married twenty years. We had two kids. And I love him. You do what you have to do for the sake of your marriage. I wasn't happy about it, but, yes, I was willing."

Sharon shook her head. "Well, at least Mark and I didn't have kids." She set down her wine glass. "Tami, can I be bluntly honest with you?"

Nothing good ever followed a question like that. "Sure."

"I get the feeling maybe you think that, at some point in the last year or so, I might have come on to your husband. And I just want to assure you that has _never_ happened. For one, unlike a certain bitch who shall remain nameless, _I_ don't make passes at other women's husbands. For another, Eric's not _at all_ my type."

Sharon's candor might have been more surprising if Tami's defense system hadn't kicked in. "What do you _mean_ he's not your type? Why on earth not?"

Sharon laughed. "Don't get me wrong. He's a handsome man. But I don't go for jocks. I mostly go for successful, high-powered professionals. Business executives like my ex. Lawyers. Doctors. Highly educated, sophisticated alpha male types."

"Eric is very successful. He's won two state championships, and he's the _head coach_ of a _college_ football team. And he's hardly a jock in the pejorative sense. He did well enough in college. Sure, he loves football, but he's just as intelligent as any – "

" – Tami," Sharon interrupted with a smile. "Eric's a great guy. You're lucky to have him. But _I'm_ not attracted to him. And I just wanted to put your mind at ease as far as that goes."

The doorbell rang three times in rapid succession, but Tami was still so stunned from the exchange that she didn't budge from her stool. She didn't need to, however, because the front door opened and shut and then a voice rang out – "Ahoy there Taylors!"

"The fabled Chuck, I presume," Sharon said, and both women turned to see the man who had just let himself inside.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Chuck was holding a bottle of red wine. He wore black pants, a white button-down dress shirt, and black dress shoes. He looked as though maybe he'd been wearing a suit earlier but had shed the coat and tie in his car. His warm, jovial voice did not hold a professorial tone, but he did have a professorial look about him, with his distinguished, silver hair, well-tailored beard, and dark-rimmed glasses. In physique, however, he was a little too sinewy to fit Tami's stereotype of a professor.

"Which one of you beauties is Tami Taylor?"

Tami smiled lightly. "That would be me."

"Ah, then this is for you." He walked forward and extended her the bottle. "Eric said you favored Chardonnay, but since he's doing brisket, I brought Cabernet. I picked this up on the wine trail when Eric flew me out to L.A."

Tami felt a momentary pang of guilt for having worried about the two plane tickets.

Chuck glanced at the open and unopened bottles of wine on the bar. "But I see someone preceded me." He smiled at Sharon. "You must be Shannon."

"Sharon."

"An even better name. From the Hebrew for forest, suggesting a fertile mind."

Sharon extended a hand toward him. "And you must be Eric's friend Chu – "

"- Dr. Charles Aurelius Thompson," he interrupted her and took her hand and kissed it. "But you can call me doctor. Or professor."

"How about God?" Sharon asked. "Can I just call you God?"

"If you wish."

Sharon laughed. "How did you and Eric even meet? He said you're a _philosophy_ professor. It's hard for me to imagine how you two hit it off."

Tami offered Chuck a glass of wine. He took it happily and stood on the other side of the bar across from them. "Interesting story," he said. "A little over a year ago I was at this bar near the university. Two seats down from me was Coach Taylor. I recognized him from the school newspaper as the new head coach of the Saints – promoted just that month, right before summer training. So eventually I introduced myself."

"That's actually not at all an interesting story," Sharon said.

"Let's backtrack," Chuck said. "While I was drinking, two obviously interested women came up to him, and he brushed them both off. Fascinated me. So I look at his hand and see he's wearing a wedding ring, and I move over a seat, and I lean into him and say, 'You miserable sap, what are you doing here at midnight all by yourself when you could be home with your wife?' And he looks at me, and he says, 'Sorry, I don't swing that way.'"

Tami let out a great laugh.

"Do I give off that vibe?" Chuck asked, gesturing with open hands to Sharon.

Sharon smiled and said, "Oh, you give off a vibe, all right, I just don't think it's that _particular_ vibe. But I can see how he might have misread your approach."

"Anyway," Chuck continued, "we corrected that little misunderstanding and we watched the game for a bit – baseball, I think, - football wasn't on yet - "

"- Is that detail important?" Sharon asked.

"Every detail is important to a good story. So Eric's completely silent, staring at the television. And he's drinking scotch. I don't know how many he's had, but I think he's had a lot, because the bartender is giving him a cautious look. And suddenly," Chuck looked at Tami, "your husband turns to me and says, 'My wife's been in a coma for five months. She has a twenty percent chance of waking up at this point. Twenty percent. I hate this. It's worse than certainty. She's not alive, and she's not dead.'"

Tami wondered what it would have been like, to be in Eric's shoes, caught in that in between state.

"So," Chuck continued, "I say, "Schrodinger's cat.'"

"What?" Tami asked.

"That's what your husband said – _What?_ So I explained to him Schrodinger's cat. The thought experiment." He looked at Sharon, "You know, the cat in the box, the cat which may be both alive and dead, with the state being tied to an earlier random event."

"No I don't know," Sharon admitted. "Is Schrodinger a philosopher?"

"Why does nobody know Schrodinger? Don't you learn this in high school? He's not a philosopher, he's a physicist, but I'm of the opinion that there are philosophical implications to the question. The cat is in the box." Chuck pointed downward at the bar. "The question is, is the cat required to be an observer, or does its existence in a single well-defined classical state require another external observer?"

"What are you talking about?" Sharon asked.

"That's what Eric said. Only he said it more like, 'Why are you muttering about fucking cats? I don't care about fucking cats you fucking person.' I loved the way he said fucking _person_. As if he couldn't think of another way to round that out. That was when I knew I would like him."

"That doesn't sound like Eric," Sharon said. "I've never once heard him drop an f-bomb." She turned to Tami. "Have you?"

"Well, I've known the man for over two decades. So maybe he's not quite as delicate with me. But still…I'd say three in a row is highly unusual."

"Well he was drunk and miserable and angry at the moment," Chuck said. "Anyway, I tried to explain Schrodinger's cat. I may have been a little inebriated myself. I'd just been dumped by an English professor. Romantic poetry, she teaches. The gall. Not a romantic bone in her body. But I digress. So as I'm trying to explain Schrodinger's cat, Eric slips off the stool and tells me to shut up. And I tell him, I **cannot** shut up until he acknowledges the significance of Schrodinger's cat!" Chuck slapped his hand on the countertop for emphasis.

Tami shook her head and glanced at Sharon, who was suppressing a laugh.

"So he belts me one."

"What?" Tami asked.

Chuck tapped his nose. "Broke my well-chiseled nose." He turned his profile to Sharon. "I used to be like a Greek statue." Sharon chuckled. "Blood everywhere," he said, waving his hand as if splattering the walls.

Sharon leaned forward. "_Now_ this is interesting."

"Your husband, Tami, was quite apologetic when he saw the damage. He offered to drive me to the urgent care, but I thought perhaps he was not in the best state to do that, and neither was I. So he hailed us a cab and came with me to the urgent care. And that's when I formally introduced myself. In the waiting room. The rest, as they say, is history."

As if to signal an end to Chuck's story, the kitchen door opened and Eric walked in.

"I need another plate for the corn," Eric said. "Chuck, come help."

While Eric grabbed a plate, Chuck picked up his glass of wine, smiled at Sharon, and followed Eric out the door.

"Strange character," Sharon said.

"I think I'm going to like him, though," Tami admitted. "He'll amuse me, if nothing else." She was surprised he didn't get on Eric's nerves. Then again, when she thought about it, she realized Eric had never had a friend who _didn't_ get on his nerves.

When Tami and Sharon made their way outside –carrying a bottle of wine each and some dinner ware – Eric was asking Chuck, "Does Damien Washington have a class with you?"

"Hegel, Marx, and Nietzsche."

"Bless you," Eric said, and Chuck smirked. "I don't know what that boy thinks he's going to do with a philosophy degree," Eric said. "He should major in something easier, so he can focus more on football."

"I don't know what you think he's going to do with a career in football," Chuck said. "He's only your second string. Of a Division II school. He certainly isn't getting drafted."

"He's my first sting now. And he'd make a fine coach one day."

"How many self-sustaining football coaching positions are there in the country?"

"A lot more than there are for philosophers. Did you know he took my au pair from me? She moved in with him. Now he needs to do the respectable thing and propose to that girl."

Chuck drained the last ounce of his wine. "Well, I think Damien's a good fellow, if that's at all reassuring. Good student. Aced my ethics class last semester. He'll treat her right."

When they sat down to dinner at the outdoor table, Gracie ate hurriedly and then asked if she could go inside to read.

Chuck settled back comfortably into his chair and said to Eric, "I'm teaching a Sports Ethics class next semester. It's a new offering in the Philosophy Department. You should encourage your players to sign up. It'll fulfill their humanities credit."

"Afraid you won't make the minimum?" Eric asked.

"Most philosophy majors aren't interested in sports. Well…Damien. And there's one kid on the soccer team in my 101 class."

"I'll recommend it," Eric says, "but most of my boys are looking for guts when it comes to their core requirements, and I'm pretty sure nothing you teach is going to be easy."

"I also want you to come in and be part of a panel discussion."

Eric raised an eyebrow.

"Spring semester. You're not going to be that busy."

"What's in it for me?"

Chuck shook a finger at him. "That's not a very ethical question, but the answer is a bottle of Woodford."

Eric nodded. "A'ight."

Dinner was followed by more conversation in the living room. Gracie was put to bed sometime in the midst of it. The conversation wore on until Sharon excused herself. "I have to prepare a brief tomorrow," she said, "so I'd better be going."

Chuck stood. "Allow me to walk you home."

"I only live three doors down."

"But it's late. It's getting dark."

"Do you have pepper spray?" she asked. "To ward off the suburban gangs?"

"I'll use my adept fists." He put a hand on the small of her back and began to guide her toward the door.

She looked down at his hand and said, in a playfully scolding tone, "I didn't ask you to touch me."

Chuck drew his hand away. "My apologies. I should have known better. I used to teach a Philosophy of Feminism class, after all."

Eric shook his head as they walked toward the front door.

Chuck's voice drifted back, "You mind if I open this for you? Or would that be too grotesque an assertion of my white male privilege?"

"Open the damn door," Sharon said, and, soon enough, Tami could hear the front door clicking shut.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Tami had consumed her fair share of wine that evening, and she was feeling unusually sleepy. She yawned. "Do you mind if I turn in early?"

"Nah." Eric stood and asked with a grin, "Want me to _tuck you in_?"

"Just a good night kiss, sugar." She stood and walked toward the bedroom. "I'm exhausted. And besides, Chuck will be coming back soon, won't he?"

Eric leaned against the door frame of the master bathroom while she began brushing her teeth. "Eventually, but he'll probably manage to invite himself in for a night cap first."

Tami rinsed and spit and tapped the excess water off her toothbrush. "Were you trying to set them up?" She began to wash her face.

"Set them up for what?"

Tami dried her face and said, "You know, get them together. As a couple." She flicked off the bathroom light and walked past him.

Eric followed her to the bed. As she crawled in, he said, "Do I look like a matchmaker to you?" He leaned down and kissed her. "But it would be convenient. If he's ever going to settle down with anyone, it ought to be someone I already know, so I don't have to worry about him being able to hang out with me once he gets married."

"Yeah, marriage really puts a damper on a man's life, doesn't it?" Tami yawned.

He kissed her lips again. "I love you. You enrich my life."

He kissed her cheek and then her neck and she giggled and squirmed away. He stood back up.

"I'm not sure Chuck is her type," Tami said.

"Why not?"

"I don't think he's _alpha male_ enough."

"I don't know what that means," Eric replied, "but Chuck certainly doesn't lack for confidence."

Tami snuggled under the blankets. "It's a little warm in here."

"I'll open a couple of windows." He went to the attached sitting room and pushed open two of the large windows to let in a light cool fall breeze. "Though you could just use a lighter blanket, you know."

"I like the weight."

He was back at her bedside now. "I could put a little weight on you." He leaned down to kiss her, and she yawned in his face. He pulled back. "Wine used to make you horny. Now it just makes you sleepy."

"Sorry. Store it up, Casanova. Maybe tomorrow night."

He sighed, kissed her forehead, and left, flicking the light off and the overhead fan on.

**[FNL]**

As usually happened when Tami drank a little too much, she slept hard for two hours and then awoke with a light headache. Eric was not in bed. Through the open windows of the bedroom, she could hear the faint sound of voices and smell the wafting fumes of cigar smoke. Eric and Chuck must be at the outdoor table, which rested just a few feet from the window.

She went to the bathroom, drank a glass of water, and thought to shut the windows, but instead she kept the lights off and settled quietly into the chair near the window. She tucked her legs up under herself and closed her eyes as her head buzzed lightly. Through the open window, she could hear the men clearly.

"I just feel like I have to tell her," Eric said.

"Why?" Chuck asked, "What good could come of it?"

"We've always been honest with each other. Honesty is one of the…you know…pillars of our marriage. I feel like I ought to come clean."

"See, this is the difference between theology and philosophy, commandments and ethics," Chuck said. "It's more complicated than a simple _thou shalt not lie_. It's a trite saying, that _honesty is the best policy_. It isn't _always_. For a full ethical consideration, you have to take into account the effects. And the effect is that you're going to upset her. And for what? Really? So you can feel a little less guilty about what you did? A little less guilty about keeping a secret? You wouldn't be pursuing honesty for _her_. You'd be doing it for _you_."

Tami sat in the darkness, her stomach clinching in on itself as if a stone had suddenly been dropped into it.

"Seriously, Eric, why tell her?"

"So it can be out in the open," Eric said, "and I can say I'm sorry, and she can get mad at me about it, and then we can…move on."

"Why upset her over something that she has no way of knowing happened? She doesn't suspect, does she?"

"I don't know," Eric said. "I think she might. She's been asking questions, you know."

"But she hasn't come out and accused you of anything?"

"No."

"Then she's probably already chosen not to make an issue of it."

"I don't know," Eric said. "Maybe. But I feel bad keeping the truth from her."

"She was in a coma. For eighteen months. You're a man and she wasn't around. It's not as if you're ever going to do anything like that again now that she's back. If you tell her, you two will just fight over it. She'll trust you a little less. Honesty won't _improve_ your marriage in this case. It's in the past."

Tami's heart tightened in her chest. All those faint fears she'd been trying to suppress rose to the surface. Eric had always been a faithful and loving husband, but as Chuck said, he was a _man_. And she was in a _coma_. For eighteen months. Eighteen months was a long time when you didn't know if your wife was going to live or die. So at some point, somewhere, somehow, Eric _had_ been with another woman.

She didn't think that woman could be Sharon, not after their conversation tonight. Besides, if Eric wanted to move on from his error – which he clearly seemed to - he certainly wouldn't be inviting the woman to dinner with them.

A one-night stand, perhaps? A woman he'd picked up on the bourbon trail when he and Chuck were in Kentucky, maybe, or at a wine bar when they were in L.A.? A night of sheer weakness and pure physical release?

Eric had never been the one-night-stand type, but then again he had always been in a relationship; he had always had access to sex. He'd had his first steady girlfriend at the age of 15, and the longest he'd ever been without a girlfriend was two months. Even when he was living in Austin, he and Tami managed to meet up and have sex occasionally. He'd never known any kind of truly long-term abstinence. Yes, he'd had limited sexual attention for several months during and after each of the pregnancies, but he'd had love and affection. Tami was _there_. There was no question that the dearth of sex would come to an end, or that Tami was fully alive.

It didn't sound as if he'd had an ongoing affair. Chuck had said he was never "going to do anything like that again," which implied to her that, whatever it was, it had already ended some time ago. And Eric certainly wouldn't have been with another woman around Gracie. Chuck knew about whatever he had done. A brief fling on one of their bachelor trips made the most sense.

Tami's mind reeled with the possibilities. Her heart spasmed with the realization that she had been betrayed, with the new knowledge that she was not always, forever, unquestionably the _only_ one. Her chest heaved. She crawled from the chair and into bed and rolled her face down into the pillow to muffle the sobs that ripped through her body.


	16. Chapter 16

** Chapter Sixteen**

Tami must have cried herself to sleep before Eric even came to bed. She awoke before he did to find Gracie already in the living room watching cartoons. It took all the strength she could muster to have a casual conversation with her daughter without bursting into tears.

When Eric emerged from the bedroom, she told him she had a hangover (even though it was her heart, and not her head, that pained her). She asked if he would take Gracie to church without her.

"Sure," he said. "You do look beat." He kissed the top of her head. She winced when his lips pressed down – lips that had touched she didn't know what other parts of what other woman. Anger swelled up within her, and she had the sudden urge to push him away and slap him across the face, but she didn't. She just waited for him to leave with Gracie.

Tami took her coffee to the kitchen bar and thought. Between her thoughts her tears flowed. After a while, Tami called Wanda. Her physical therapist was the closest thing she'd made to a real friend since waking up from that coma, and she didn't know who else to unburden her heart to. She wasn't going to tell Shelley, because Shelley wasn't going to be helpful, and while Tami might forgive Eric, Shelley probably wouldn't. Women had a way of harboring grudges for the men who hurt their sisters.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Wanda said. "So very sorry." She listened more than she talked, but she did ask, "Have you decided what you're going to do about it?"

"I'm going to confront him. But I'm also going to forgive him. I once told a young man, a student of mine from one of the high schools where I used to be a counselor, that there's no weakness in forgiveness."

"That's for darn sure," Wanda said. "It takes a lot of strength. But honey, you know, it might happen in your _mind_ before it happens in your _heart_."

"I know. Thanks, Wanda."

After she hung up, Tami showered, dressed, and called Carolyn to ask her if she could watch Gracie this afternoon. When Eric and Gracie came home from church, the former au pair was waiting to take the girl to the movies.

"We need to talk," Tami told Eric.

"Oh…kay," he said cautiously as he followed her to the table in the breakfast nook.

When they were sitting across from one another, she sat up straight in her chair, took a deep breath, leveled her eyes at him, and said, "I overheard you talking with Chuck last night about what you did while I was in the coma."

"Oh God." He leaned across the table and took her hand. "Tami, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, honestly, face to face. I wanted to come clean about it. I didn't want you to find out like that."

She pulled her hand out of his. "Well I did."

"I'm really sorry, but you were in a coma, and I didn't know if you were going to wake up."

Anger flashed through her. She willed the rage to still. "I don't want you using that as an excuse. I understand there were extenuating circumstances, but it makes me angry to hear you use that as an excuse. You're going to have to _own_ your part in this if I'm going to be able to forgive you."

"Okay, fine, I own it," he said hastily. "Forgive me?"

A sound burst from her lips, almost a bark, a combined exclamation of anger, grief, and surprise. "You think it's that _simple_? I cried for an hour straight night last night! While you were out there talking with Chuck!"

"You did? I didn't - "

"I cried myself to sleep. And I've been wrestling with this all morning, sitting and thinking and praying and trying decide how to handle this. And I said to myself, Eric's sincerely sorry, he's determined never to do it again. He didn't know if I was going to live or die, so I need to _fight_ to forgive him for this and be ready to move on together with him. But then you sit there and dismiss it so casually? With a _fine_. _Fine_? Like it's not a _big deal_ for me to forgive you?"

"Tami, what – "

She thrust a finger in his direction. "You think you can just say, oh, well, you were in a coma? As if there isn't going to be pain? As if you don't have to do anything at all to earn back my trust? Like it's some _small_ thing? I understand that it wasn't easy for you, Eric. I get that, which is why I thought I was ready to forgive, but I thought you felt horrible about it. I thought you were sincerely sorry."

"Tami, I – "

"- I'm in pain here Eric. This hurts! It's going to hurt for maybe a long time. I'm ready to forgive, but don't treat this like it was nothing. We've been married twenty-one years! I haven't been with another man since I was eighteen! And I wouldn't think of it!"

"What the hell does you being with another man have to do with a damn painting? For Christsake, Tami, it was just a painting!"

Tami blinked. "What?"

"I know you loved it. I know your uncle painted it. I know it was your favorite. But I'm sorry. I've never liked it. It's garish and girly and I'm a _man_, and I didn't want a bunch of pink and purple flowers hanging in my house, so I gave it to Chuck to take to the flea market. I'm _sorry_ I lied. I'm sorry I told you it was destroyed in the flood. I should have kept it in storage for you or at least told you the truth. But why are you _this_ mad?"

"What?" Tami asked again.

It was true she had inquired about the painting at least three times: first she asked where it was, then how damaged it had been, and then how it had gotten damaged when none of the books had and some were in the same box. He'd been vague in his answers every time.

"Chuck was right," he said. "I thought he was being an idiot with his advice about not coming clean, but I had no idea you'd blow up like this. I thought you'd be upset I lied and irritated that I got rid of it, but I assumed you'd be over it in a day or two."

"I….Eric…" She was trying to put the pieces of last night's conversation into the context of that painting. Hadn't he said he'd been with another woman? That he'd cheated on her? Hadn't he told Chuck that? As she tried to recall the actual words now, she realized that he had not explicitly said anything of the kind, that everything he had said could conceivably fit into the framework he was now presenting to her. "I thought you'd been with another woman. I thought you were asking Chuck if you should tell me you cheated while I was in the coma. I thought maybe you'd had…a one-night stand."

"Me?" Eric pressed his lips tightly together. A line jumped in his jaw. "I _told_ you I was faithful. I told you that the day you woke up."

"I know, but when I heard you talking to Chuck – "

"- It doesn't matter what I say, does it? You're always going to suspect." He bawled his hand into a fist on the table. "First it was all the hinting around when you woke up, then it was all your questions about Sharon, then it was grilling me about the plane tickets. I was faithful for eighteen months, Tami. I didn't do _one_ damn thing. I was _completely_ faithful to you the entire time, because I didn't take a vow before Almighty God that said until _coma_ do us part. And because I love you. And I missed you. And I wanted _you_. Not some…woman…_you_."

"Oh, Eric…" She reached forward to grab his hand, but he was the one to pull away this time.

"I consider myself to be a man of honor. I'm not perfect, and I've done some stupid things, and I've told some little lies in our relationship, but when I give my _word_ to someone – my _word_, Tami - I keep it. I thought you knew that about me. I thought you admired that about me."

"I do, Eric. You're – "

" - But ever since you woke up, you've doubted me, haven't you? You've doubted my fidelity. My _honor_."

"Eric – "

He shook his head. "I might as well have cheated. I might as well have gotten something out of it, if you weren't going to believe me anyway." The chair scrapped against the tile floor as he stood. "There's nothing more I can say. You either think I'm honorable or you don't. And it's pretty damn clear you don't."

His keys scraped and jangled as he grabbed them from off the top of the kitchen bar. "I'm going out."

The front door slammed before she was a foot from the chair.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Tami waited an hour to call Eric on his cell phone. She wanted to give him time to cool down. He didn't answer, and she apologized to his voice mail.

Another hour after that, Carolyn brought Gracie home. Tami told Gracie, "Daddy is working late tonight."

"On Sunday?" Gracie asked. "Why? His game was yesterday."

"He just needed to go to the office," Tami insisted, and she made them a light dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. She barely touched the food herself.

"Can I go next door and see if Jacob can play?" Gracie asked.

Jacob was a good three years older than Gracie, but in maturity level, they were about the same. Tami had engaged in a few, brief conversations with the boy's mother and father and deemed the child a decent enough playmate. "Sure," Tami said.

When Gracie was gone, Tami called her older daughter. She made a little small talk at first – asked how the internship was going and if Julie was worried about her final exams next month. Then she ventured, "When you and Matt had that fight while I was in the coma, because you thought he cheated and he hadn't…how did you two work through that?"

"Oh, Mom, that's in the past now. I don't want to talk about that. We're fine, really. I promise. We're getting married in a few months!"

"I know. I'm just wondering…I imagine Matt was very angry with you for not trusting him."

"Yeah, I get it. I was an idiot. I know that, Mom. Sorry you weren't awake to lecture me when I did it, but do you really have to now? And you know what? I had my reasons. Circumstances were suspicious. I turned out to be wrong, but it wasn't as if I had _no_ reason."

"What _were_ your reasons?"

"It'll just sound stupid if I tell you. Can we drop it?" Julie sighed. "Look, I know I had a bad year before you went in the coma. I wasn't that reliable. And Matt and I went through another glitch a little after you were in the coma. But a lot has changed in the past twelve months. I've really grown up. If you'd just…give me a chance."

Tami took a deep breath. "Look, Julie, the only reason I asked about it is because…I sort of accused your father of cheating on me."

"What? Dad? Not Dad! He didn't….did he?"

"No. He didn't. I overheard part of a conversation and I misinterpreted it. But now your father is upset because I questioned his honor."

"His _honor_?" Julie suppressed a snort.

Tami frowned. "It's not a laughing matter."

"Sorry. I know it's not."

"He's not answering his phone," Tami said.

There was a long silence at the other end of the line. Then Julie's voice, slightly gleeful, "Wait. Are _you_ asking _me_ for relationship advice?"

Tami didn't think she was asking for advice, not really. Julie's relationship with Matt was a flash in the pan compared to her long marriage with Eric. But she was reaching out for something – reassurance, or comfort perhaps; someone, anyone else, to talk to. Things had been confusing since she awoke from the coma. Eric had been as loving as always, and twice as horny, but he'd also seemed less emotionally dependent on her. He'd lived without her for well over a year, and he'd developed his own routines and friendships. And now she'd wounded him with her doubts, doubts born of time and distance.

"Why didn't you just ask him what the conversation was about?" Julie asked after Tami had explained what happened. "Why did you assume it was about him cheating?"

"Well, it certainly sounded that way. I mean, you made assumptions about Matt, right?" Tami couldn't believe she was having to defend herself to her daughter.

"Yeah, but Matt and I haven't been married for like two decades."

"And you weren't in a coma for, _**like**_, eighteen months." Tami hated that Julie still said like, at the age of twenty. She softened her tone. "Look, Julie, the truth is, time can make you grow apart a little. And if he thought I probably wasn't waking up…that changes things. I think I can be forgiven for being just a afraid he might have…done something." Eric did seem to think so, however. And apparently Julie didn't either. "That last six months, I only had, what, a fifteen percent chance of waking up?"

"It was hard, knowing that," Julie said quietly. "Matt and I talked about it, how it's hard when someone dies – like his dad did – but it's just…it's just weird when someone isn't there anymore, and you don't know if they're dead or alive, or going to be, you know? I know it was hard for Dad. And I even offered to quit college here and move in with him and go to college down in San Angelo."

"You did?"

"Yeah. But he didn't want me to change my life like that, you know? He said you wouldn't have wanted me to, that you'd want me to pursue my goals."

"He was right."

"But I know Dad was having a hard time of it. He probably drank a lot. But he didn't cheat, Mom. I'm sure he didn't cheat. As sure as I am of…anything."

By the end of the conversation, Julie hadn't been much help. Her only advice was "Time. Time seems to resolve things. Always has for me and Matt. Time and talking."

Eric still hadn't returned Tami's calls by the time she put Gracie to bed. Gracie seemed a little suspicious about the late night at the office. "Surely Daddy has worked late before?" Tami said.

"Sure," Gracie said, "_before_ a game. Not the day _after_." Eric had lost his game on Saturday morning, by a small margin.

"Well, there were some things he had to work out," Tami told her, and kissed her on the forehead.

"No kissing," Gracie said.

"You can't be too old for that, sweetheart."

"You can hug me still. But no kissing."

Tami hugged her and then turned off the overhead light. "I love you, Gracie Belle. To the moon and back." Gracie probably didn't even remember that line from that book, which was one Tami had read to her a hundred times when she was two.

Tami left Gracie's room, went to the kitchen, and called Sharon. Sharon's was one of the pre-programmed numbers on the phone, after all. "Is Eric over there by any chance?" she asked.

"No," Sharon said. "Why?"

"Oh…no reason. He just forgot to tell me where he was going. I'm just little worried because he hasn't answered his phone for hours. I'll try Chuck."

"He's not with Charles," Sharon said.

_Charles?_ "How do you know?"

"Uh…well," she laughed lightly. "He's here."

"Oh."

Sharon sounded as though she had half covered the phone. Tami could hear her muttered words. "No. You ask her if you want to know."

Chuck's voice suddenly broke through the phone. "Did you two get in a fight?"

"Yes," Tami admitted.

"He told you about the painting?"

"Um…."

"He did _not_ tell you about the painting. And I've just committed a terrible faux pas."

"No. He told me about the painting."

"You didn't kick him out over that, did you?" Chuck asked. "It's just a painting, Tami."

"No, I didn't kick him out at all. Do you know where he might go, if he went somewhere just to…cool off?"

"What did you fight about then?"

"I don't think that's really your concern," Tami told him.

"Well, it might affect where he went. If you're fighting over the painting, he's probably at the athletic office. If you're fighting over something more serious, he's probably at the Drunken Dwarf."

"The what?"

"The Drunken Dwarf. It's a sports bar. I know. It's an odd name for a sports bar. Listen, I'll find him for you and send him on home."

"You don't have – "

"- It's nothing, Tami." Chuck hung up the phone.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Do you have Woodford?" Eric asked.

The bartender shook his head.

"Knob Creek?"

"We've got Makers."

"A'ight."

The bartender cleared Eric's empty pint glass. A bit of foam clung to the rim. Eric glanced up at the game on the television. Gracie would be in bed by now. He was starting to feel a light buzz from the beers, and the bourbon should do the trick. He'd have to take a cab home. Or perhaps he'd call Chuck and crash at his friend's bachelor's pad. It might not be a good idea to come home drunk. He and Tami would just fight again, and he might say something he regretted.

Being a single father for eighteen months, without the comfort of a woman – _his_ woman - had been the greatest challenge of his life. When Tami woke up, he'd been simultaneously overjoyed and terrified. What if she didn't like the house, the furniture, the neighborhood, his new job…what if she didn't love the man he'd become? It wasn't that he thought he'd become anyone different, not really, but people changed in eighteen months. He and Tami had always changed alongside each other, so the change was hardly noticeable. But eighteen months of silence had passed between them. She'd remained frozen in time while he'd plodded on. What if they couldn't reconnect? The thought had haunted him.

He'd tried to pick up precisely where they'd left off, and though the sex had been fantastic and they'd fallen back into many familiar patterns of affection and friendship, they were slightly out of tune. And it was now clear to him that her doubts about his fidelity ran far deeper than she had initially let on. Her willingness to believe that he'd actually had a one-night stand with another woman disturbed him on more levels than he could count. There was anger at the slight to his character, but there was also fear - How were they ever going to be the same again, if she really thought it was possible he had cheated on her? If that uncertainty always lingered at the corner of her mind, how were they going to be the team they once were? There was a time when she had believed in him completely, when she had admired him as a "molder of men," as a man of _honor_.

That time was gone.

The bartender slid him the glass of Makers, and Eric took a sip. From beside him, a familiar, jovial voice said, "You miserable sap, what are you doing here all by yourself when you could be home with your wife?"

Eric, despite the sea of emotions churning in his gut, smiled. "I don't swing that way," he said.

Chuck sat down next to him and ordered Bookers, then Woodford, then –

"- They've only got Makers," Eric said.

"Makers." He looked at Eric. "Tami's looking for you. You don't answer your phone? You don't text your wife back? She's worried, you know."

"I'm not calm enough to talk to her right now," Eric said. "I needed some space."

Chuck took his glass of bourbon from the bartender. "I'm guessing this is not related to your disposal of that flower painting?"

Eric told him what had happened, concluding, "And I don't know how we're ever supposed to go back to the way things were if she doesn't trust me."

"Well, you're never going to go back to the way things _were_. As Heracitus said, _one cannot step twice in the same river_. You're going to move ahead to the way things _will be_. And they'll be fine. Better than fine. They'll be excellent. They'll just be different."

Eric shook his head. "Not if she thinks I cheated on her."

"Then reassure her you haven't."

"I did! She doubts me. She doubts…my honor."

"Don't make this about you," Chuck said. "Don't make this about your pride."

"What?"

"Eric, consider that maybe this is about _her_. Maybe it's about her need for a real reassurance of your fidelity. She's been in a coma for eighteen months, and she woke up forced to start a completely new life, as an appendage to the pre-existing life you'd constructed for yourself. There's a context to her doubt. _Life must be understood backward, but it must be lived forward._ That's Kierkegaard."

Eric held up a hand. "Can you do me a favor? Can you not quote philosophy tonight?"

"Well now that's asking a bit much don't you think? It's like asking you not to use any football metaphors."

"I don't use football metaphors. When have I ever used football metaphors?"

"More often than you realize," Chuck said.

"Yeah, then quote me one. I'm going to need the play by play if I'm going to take your word for – " Eric stopped talking and smiled lightly. "So I'm not supposed to care that she thinks I'm dishonorable enough to cheat on her? Not supposed to care that she didn't believe me the first time I told her I hadn't?"

"Eric, you were without each other for a year and a half. When she awoke, you weren't by her bedside. You weren't even in the same town. You'd been living eighty miles away for over a year. It's not unreasonable for her to need a little reassurance."

"I gave it to her! I told her – "

"- No," Chuck said, "you gave her a defensive dismissal of her doubts. She needs a _reassurance_."

"She shouldn't need it. We were together twenty years before she went into that coma, and I never once cheated on her. She knows what kind of man I am!"

Chuck sighed. "You're behaving like child, you know, by not returning her calls."

"What are you, my father? You've never even been married. Why are you giving me marriage advice?"

"I once taught a class on the Philosophy of Marriage."

Eric shot the rest of his bourbon. "A _class_. Life isn't a textbook."

"_Science is what you know. Philosophy is what you don't know._ That's Bertrand Russell."

Eric grimaced.

"So I'm just telling you what you don't seem to know. Remember when we were on the bourbon trail in Kentucky, and we were with that group of women?" Chuck had bought them a tour package so they wouldn't be driving from distillery to distillery and could drink as much as they liked. They'd been driven about in a van with six other people. "And that redhead kept flirting with both of us. The one with the," Chuck cupped his hands in front of his chest.

"You teach that gesture in your Philosophy of Feminism class?"

"You remember Cynthia," Chuck said.

"What about her? _I_ wasn't the one who ended up going up to her hotel room that night, was I?"

"You know I never would have done that if you weren't married. I would have deferred to you, in the interest of friendship."

"There was nothing to defer to," Eric grumbled.

"You _were_ flirting back with her, and you walked her to the garden at that one distillery when she hinted that she wanted to see it."

"I didn't _do_ anything with her in the garden."

"You were _thinking_ about doing something with her. When you two got back to the tasting bar, you asked her if she was in the same hotel as us, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't _do_ anything about it."

"You were _thinking_ about it," Chuck said.

"_Thinking_ isn't _doing_!"

"No, it's not, but my point is you've been tempted. And Tami knows that. She knows you didn't spend eighteen months never thinking about another woman. She knows you weren't walking around like Candide, completely naïve and innocent. She knows women had to be coming on to you. And she knows you had to be thinking about it. So tell her you were. Don't dismiss her concerns as though you weren't seriously tempted, as though it wasn't hard for you to stay faithful, as though you're above such concerns, because you're _not_. Tell her how tempted you were, and tell her you resisted anyway." Chuck pointed at him. "Tell her about Claire." Claire had been an administrative assistant in the Athletic Department. "Tell her when Claire started being overly friendly with you and you started liking it a little too much, you made sure she found a better job in my department so you wouldn't keep seeing her. Tell Tami things like that. Be _honest_ with her."

"Aren't you the man who just told me last night that honesty is not always the best policy?"

Chuck shrugged. "We were talking about a painting. An object. A thing. Now we're talking about the human heart. And human fear."

The bartender cleared Chuck's glass and asked if he wanted anything else. "A martini."

"You're not going to make me sit next to you while you drink a martini, are you?"

"Shaken and not stirred," Chuck said in a deep voice. Then, turning to Eric, "Is that better?"

Eric raised his empty glass and the bartender asked, "Another?"

"He'll have coffee and water," Chuck said.

"Will I?"

"You will," Chuck told him. "I'm buying all this. You'll drink what I tell you."

The bartender looked questioningly at Eric. "A'ight," Eric said, and the bartended disappeared.

Meanwhile, Chuck was typing away with two thumbs on the tiny keyboard of his smart phone.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked. "Writing a novel?"

"I'm texting your wife to let her know you're safe, that you love her, and that you'll be getting your offensive coordinator to cover practice for you tomorrow morning, so that you and she can have a long, serious talk while Gracie is in school."

Eric shook his head. "If I tell her all that…about all my temptations…isn't that gonna make her feel bad? To know there were times when I _really_ wanted to have sex with another woman, a real woman, a woman I actually _could_ have had sex with?"

"She already knows that. What she needs to know is that you didn't do it, and how you managed not to do it. She needs to know you were aware you _could_ fall, so you made sure you _didn't_. Instead, you've been pretending you're fall-proof."

A coffee slid Eric's way and a martini Chuck's. Eric wrapped his hands around the warm cup. "Tami once told me that she liked that I agonized about things – like when I was trying to figure out whether to start Saracen. She said she thought my conscience was sexy. Or something like that."

"_The unexamined life is not worth living._ That's - "

"-Aristotle," Eric guessed.

"Close. Socrates. Women always find conflicted men to be sexy. Conflicted men are all over romance novels. See, it's not your purity that appeals to her. It's your ability to engage in the _conflict_."

"Character is in the trying," Eric said. "That's what I told Vince."

Chuck didn't ask who Vince was. "Precisely. You don't have to be perfect, Eric, and Tami doesn't expect you to have been. She was willing to forgive you even if you _had_ fallen. Not because she has low standards for you, but because she could imagine the intensity of your struggle under the circumstances. Don't take her doubts, or her willingness to forgive, as a judgment on the weakness of your character. It's not. The doubts are a result of her unusual circumstances. Her willingness to forgive even your imaginary wrong is a result of her love for you."

Eric looked into his coffee cup, glad Chuck had cut him off. How many beers had he had before that bourbon? He couldn't remember. "I'm seriously buzzed."

Chuck began texting again. "You need to have this conversation when you're sober and your head's cleared up. I'm telling Tami you're spending the night at my place, but you'll be home tomorrow morning, and that you two are going to work this out."

**[FNL]**

Chuck only had a one-bedroom apartment, so he set Eric up on the couch. The man inexplicably didn't have cable, so Eric wouldn't be able to watch ESPN as he fell asleep. Chuck called up some British comedy from Netlfix, which Eric didn't pay much attention to, and they talked for a few more minutes in the living room while they drank water.

"I had dinner at Sharon's house tonight," Chuck said. "It might have led to dessert if I hadn't had to come lecture you."

Eric grunted and sipped his water.

"We're going out again next Friday. This will be interesting. I haven't dated a really sophisticated woman since I met you."

"That's not my fault," Eric said.

"No. It's Sophia's." Chuck had been coming off a break-up with an English professor when Eric had slugged him at the Drunken Dwarf. "_Sophia_. With a name like that, I could only assume we must be soul mates. That woman broke my heart."

"I know."

"And that's why I decided to stick to regular women for a while. But now I think I might be ready to take on someone as formidable as Sharon again." He pointed his water glass toward Eric. "You never told me she was smart _and_ good-looking _and_ ambitious. You could have introduced us sooner."

"I tried. You cancelled on my dinner invitations twice. Both times for stupid, pretty, unambitious women."

"Well, if I had _known_ what was waiting behind door number two, I might not have. And Karen wasn't stupid. She was of average intelligence. Maybe even slightly above average. She just had a playful personality. We had a good month."

"She was talky."

"You only met her once."

"She talked a whole lot. About very little." Eric stretched himself out on the couch, took off his cap, and covered his face with it.

"Sleep tight," Chuck said as he rose from the arm chair and walked toward his bedroom. "Don't let the couch bugs bite."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

When Tami's alarm went off the next morning, she could hear the murmur of voices from the living room. She wandered out to find Gracie curled in Eric's lap on the couch, with her little arms outstretched around his neck, and a cartoon on the television.

"Daddy's taking me to school today," Gracie said. "He's going to be late for work!" She smiled. "He's never late for work."

Eric kissed her nose. "Just wanted a little extra time with my girl this morning." He looked up at Tami, bit his bottom lip, and didn't say anything. She couldn't guess what he was thinking. His hair was unbrushed, wild and ruffled, and he had a light stubble because he hadn't shaved this morning. For some reason, that look struck her as almost unbearably sexy, which was a somewhat inconvenient reaction, given that they had a lot of marriage work to do and he was probably still angry.

Eric stood and set Gracie on her feet. "Get you're backpack, munchkin." Gracie ran toward her bedroom.

"We'll talk when you get back?" Tami asked as he walked past her.

He turned. "Yeah," he said softly. "I should probably shower first though."

**[FNL]**

Tami was sitting on the back patio, sipping coffee, and staring at the fence when the kitchen door opened and Eric walked out. His cheeks were so freshly smooth that she had the urge to run her hand across them – another inconvenient reaction. His hair was wet and brushed and he was wearing a fresh, SAEU sweatshirt.

He stood behind a chair. "Should we go inside?" he asked. "In case there's yelling?"

She looked at the houses rising above the fence line on either side. "Well, if you think you might yell at me, maybe we better stay out here so you'll be less inclined."

He sat down in the chair opposite her. "I'm not going to yell at you," he said with irritation.

"You said – "

"- it's just, you know how these things can get, Tami."

"I don't, actually. We've never had one of these things. What is this thing?"

"Marriage," he said. "This thing is marriage. And we've had one for a long, long time."

She laughed and he smiled, and that smile caused a great wave of relief to wash over her. "This is a new challenge, though, isn't it? This isn't something we've been through before." She set her coffee cup down on the tile table top and extended her hand out, without quite reaching for his.

He accepted the invitation and surrounded her hand with one of his own. He looked down at their hands clasped on the table. "Tami, I didn't cheat on you. I was tempted. I was lonely, and there were opportunities I could have seized, but I never did. I love you. I made a vow to you. And I'm a man of my word."

"I know you are."

He looked at her, sadness at the edges of his eyes. "Do you?"

She nodded. "I do. I'm sorry I doubted you even for a moment. I'm sorry I didn't just tell you I'd overheard your conversation and give you a chance to explain."

"Why didn't you?"

"Maybe because I've been a little scared. You told me once our marriage needs nurturing, and I love that about you, that you recognize that. And I haven't been around to nurture it. People can grow apart. Remember when you didn't want to move to Austin, because you were afraid it could injure our marriage, that time and distance apart?"

"You said I was wrong, that you knew our marriage was strong, that you knew – "

" – Well you were _right_. Our marriage was strong. It _is_ strong. But that doesn't mean it can't be weakened. And being apart and living separate lives can weaken it. I learned that when you were in Austin, and we had to rebuild a little bit after you came back. Well, I haven't been in Austin…I've been gone a lot farther for a lot longer. And you've been leading a completely separate life."

He squeezed her hand. "Not completely. Tami, I thought about you…every decision I made. I thought about you." He smiled. "Well, maybe not when I tossed that painting in the flea market."

"I guess I don't get a chance to be mad at you about that. It would seem kind of silly now." She slid her hand out of his, moved her chair closer, and touched his cheek gently with the palm of her hand. "Eric, I'm so sorry I let fear drive my doubts instead of trusting in your character. I know you're an honorable man."

He kissed her gently, slowly at first, and then more deeply. He pulled away and leaned back against his chair, one arm resting on the table. "Listen. It's okay if you need reassurance. If that's what you need, I'll give it to you. Ask me anything. I'll answer honestly. Even if it's something I've already answered before, I'll answer it again."

"Eric, I believe you. I – "

"- No, Tami. Let's do this. Because otherwise those little doubts might resurface and keep niggling at you. Let's beat them silent right here, right now. Ask me anything."

She angled her chair so she wasn't quite so close to him. She put a hand on either arm. "Promise you won't get mad if I do?"

He crossed is heart with a finger. "You have to make the same promise. If you want me to be honest."

"Well, I can't control my _feelings_, Eric."

"You just asked me to!"

She nodded. "Fair enough. How about we both just promise we'll _try_ not to get mad?"

"A'ight. Now shoot."

"Did you ever go out alone with a woman," Tami asked, "to dinner or something like that, while I was in the coma?"

"Yes. Sharon a few times. As friends. And once, this woman who was an admin at the athletic office."

Tami would have to get to the mystery woman at the athletic office. "Were you ever attracted to Sharon?"

"No. I mean, I think she's an attractive woman objectively speaking. She was never a temptation for me, though. And I never had the sense she would have been responsive to any kind of an advance."

"But the woman at the athletic office, did you get the sense she would have responded?" Tami asked.

"Yeah."

"Is that why you went to dinner with her?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't know. She asked me to. I shouldn't have gone with her. She'd flirted with me in the office. I should have shut that down sooner, but it was flattering and it made me feel less lonely. After dinner, she tried to kiss me in the parking lot."

Tami tried not to let the irritation show in her face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked down at the table.

"But I pulled back," he said. "I guess when she tried that, that's when I realized I'd been playing with fire and…well…I pulled back. And I reminded her I was married and told her I was sorry if it seemed like I'd been leading her on."

"_Seemed_ like? Sounds like you _had_ been!"

He raised a finger. "You promised you wouldn't get mad."

"I'm not mad," she insisted grumpily. "I'm just…being honest. And maybe I don't like the idea of you flirting with other women."

"Well, you _shouldn't_ like it. And I shouldn't have done it. I'm not perfect. But I'm faithful. I pulled back and then I started asking around and I found her a better paying job in the Philosophy Department and she went to work there instead."

"Did Chuck help you with that?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. He was real helpful. He also made sure she lost interest in me by charming her himself, and he ended up taking her to bed three weeks after she got the new job in his department. "

"What?"

Eric shrugged. "Well, he's a bachelor, you know. That's what he does, I guess. Takes a woman to bed every weekend."

Tami raised an eyebrow. "You sound a bit jealous."

"Why would I be jealous? I take a woman to bed every _night_. Of course, she doesn't always have sex with me."

Tami smiled and then looked more serious. "Did you find any other women to be a temptation?"

"There was this one woman I met on the bourbon trail. She was in our tour group. She flirted with me. We went for a walk in a garden at the distillery."

"You took her for a walk in a garden?" Tami's voice rose during the question, and Eric lowered his eyes. "That's what you did with me on our first date. Because you thought it would be _romantic_."

"No, I took you to the _arboretum_. It's a little more elaborate than a garden. And we had to drive an _hour_ to get there. And we spent two hours in the place. And I held your hand the whole time we were walking. And I kissed you under the magnolia tree."

Tami smiled to think that he remembered all that, although she was pretty sure it had been a flowering cherry tree.

"I didn't do anything with her. I was attracted to her, in a purely sexual way, and I knew she'd let me come up to her hotel room later, but I didn't. She'd been flirting with both me and Chuck, so I just left her to Chuck."

"Sounds like Chuck took a lot of bullets for you."

"He's sacrificial that way."

"Were there any other temptations for you?" Tami asked.

"Not really."

"What about the vultures?"

"What?" he asked.

"Shelley told me you had a few divorced neighbors hovering around you the month she was here."

He shook his head. "Tami, that was really early on when Shelley lived here. You'd only been in the coma two months. I was treading water and beside myself with grief and I sure wasn't thinking about anything but you, and making a living at a new job, and how I was going to parent Gracie alone. Shelley claimed a couple of those women were flirting with me, but I thought they were just being neighborly. Bringing over casseroles and such. Welcoming me to the neighborhood. Asking how they could help when they heard you were in a coma. One of the ones Shelley kept insisting was coming on to me had a steady boyfriend. They're married now. Lauren and Jim? Six doors down?"

Tami shook her head. "Shelley painted a different picture."

"We're talking about Shelley. Every scene is a potential bodice ripper in her world."

"Anything else I should know about?"

"Not really." He put a hand on her knee. "Tami, I've loved you for so long. It's not like I was fighting temptation often. You've been the only one for me since I was eighteen."

"Seventeen," she said.

"Seventeen," he corrected himself hastily. Then he furrowed his brow. "I really I thought I was eighteen the first time we had sex."

"Yes. But we started _dating_ when you were still seventeen. You didn't have sex with anyone while we were dating, did you?"

"No, not while we were dating, but _before_ we were dating, I was still seventeen, and I had sex with someone else _before_ we were dating. When I was seventeen."

"Yes, but you were still seventeen when – " She stopped, shook her head, and laughed. "Are we really arguing over this technicality?"

"This is how I like us," he said with a smile. "These are the kind of arguments I like us to have. The mundane ones that show we're comfortably married."

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I'll make sure we have a bunch of them, then." She sat back again. "So, Chuck had sex with _both_ of the women you were attracted to? Is he a player? Does Sharon know this about him?"

"Chuck? I wouldn't call Chuck a _player_."

"Oh, no, he's too sophisticated for that. A lothario then. A Casanova. A rake."

"I wouldn't say it like _that_. But if he's not in a steady relationship, he's not going to turn down opportunities."

Tami crossed her arms over her chest.

"Chuck's a decent guy," Eric insisted. "He's a'ight."

"An all right guy who uses women and then kicks them out of bed the next morning?"

"Who's to say they aren't using him?"

Tami rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, Tami. They're grown women. I guess you think I have bad taste in friends."

"Don't get all defensive," she said. "I know it's possible to be friends with someone whose values you don't share. Buddy cheated on his wife."

"Yeah, but I wasn't friends with Buddy the same way I'm friends with Chuck. I actually _like_ Chuck. No, he and I don't share all of the same values, and I've never had casual sex with anyone in my life, but Chuck's a decent man. He's never two-timed anyone. He's not deceptive. When it's casual, it's mutually casual. And it's not like he goes through hordes of women a year. He _dates_. Sometimes it lasts a couple weeks, sometimes a couple months…when I met him, he was coming off a _two-year_ relationship. I think he needed a lot of reassurance after that."

"Well, I've decided I like Sharon. I had a good time chatting with her during dinner while you boys were debating which was the best bourbon. She's smart and capable. So he better not break her heart. He was over at her house when I called her last night. I hope he didn't get laid and decide he's ready to move on."

"He and Sharon aren't having sex anytime soon."

"How do you know that?"

"After Sharon filed for divorce, she sort of bent my ear about it. She told me what bothered her most about Mark cheating. She said it was important for her not have sex outside of marriage, that she's resolved never to do that, and she thought Mark was the best man she'd ever dated because he was the only one who was willing to accept that and not break up with her within the first three months. He was the only guy she's ever actually had sex with."

"But she's a thirty-seven year old lawyer!"

"What does her age or profession have to do with it?" Eric asked.

"She told me they'd been married nine years. They haven't been divorced long…so…she didn't lose her virginity until she was at least 27? That's…unusual."

"So first Chuck is a _rake_ because he has too much sex outside of marriage, and now Sharon's _unusual_ because she _doesn't_?"

"There's a happy medium, Eric. You and I found it. But...being a virgin for that long...you have to admit it's a little unusual," Tami said.

"Yeah." Eric laughed. "I can't wait to see Chuck's reaction when he finds out."

"You think he'll lose interest?"

"No," Eric said. "I think he'll be intrigued." He stood up, took her hand, and tugged her from the chair. "Let's not talk about Chuck and Sharon, and let's not talk about us anymore either. Let's not talk for a while."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and toyed with the hair at the back of his head. "Whatever will we do if we're not talking?"

He kissed her. "We'll think of something. You're a very creative thinker, Tami Taylor."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

The love making had been alternately hungry and playful. Tami hated to fight, but she had to admit that makeup sex was her favorite kind of sex.

She traced the sinews of Eric's shoulder and said, "Are you still working out as much now that I'm back?"

He rolled onto his side to face her. "I'm working out _more_." He grinned. "Just differently."

"I don't think sex builds much muscle, sugar."

He kissed her shoulder. "I had a lot of free time alone. You're just going to have to accept that I'm going to be less fit a year from now."

She liked the muscles he'd refined, but she almost didn't want him to have done so. She'd lost fitness, while he'd gained it. His sexual eagerness for her reassured her that she was as desirable to him as ever – almost more so, because he'd gone so long without sex – but she hated that she was only gradually regaining her former self. She'd aged too. Had she been awake, she might not have noticed it.

"Maybe we can find time to work out _together_," she said. "I need to keep getting stronger." She draped a leg around his hip and urged him a little closer. She knew it would be awhile before he could rally again, but she liked the feel of his naked flesh pressed against hers.

"I'm so glad you're back," he said. "Next time you get so much as a sniffle, you're going to the doctor. You're not waiting until you slip into a coma."

"I don't think I'll be getting spinal meningitis again, hon."

"So much as a sniffle, Tami."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "Yes, sir."

He returned her kiss more fully and ran a hand up her back to tug at her hair until he'd exposed her neck. He nipped at the base of it. "I like it when you yes sir me."

"Well then I hope you enjoyed that," Tami said, "because that's probably the last time you're going to hear it."

Eric chuckled. When his cell phone rang on the nightstand, he stopped kissing her neck. He sighed, rolled over, and grabbed it. He looked at the caller I.D. before answering.

"Yes Coach?" He listened. "No, we're starting Damien. We agreed to that." Pause. "I understand that, Frank, but I want to give him a chance." Pause. "But Juarez has no heart. And that's what's gonna matter when it comes to leadership. We've been over all this. Have Coach Hobson run the plays with Damien like I told you." Eric sighed. He listened. "I appreciate your point of view. But this my decision." Eric threw himself on his back, the phone to his ear. "It's my ass on the line in the end. You'll keep your job no matter what. Hell, think about it this way. If I screw up, you might be able to step up into _my_ job." There was another long pause, and then Eric said, "and listen. I'm bringing on a college assistant. I'm trying to get a small stipend for her, but if we can't, she's happy just to have the experience. She's transferring to SAEU next semester, so she'll be with us when spring training starts." Pause. "Yes, a girl. Jess Merriweather."

Tami smiled.

"No she's going to be shadowing me." Pause. "She'll be in the meetings."

Tami scooted close, leaned down, and kissed his hip.

Eric smiled. "Trust me on this," he said.

She stroked his thigh.

Eric closed his eyes. "I gotta go." He hung up and tossed his phone on the night stand.

Tami stopped stroking and looked up at him. "Do you have to go in to work soon, sugar?'

"Nah. I'm taking the day off. I want to spend it with you."

"You trust your offensive coordinator _that_ much? I didn't think you thought anyone could run practice as well as you."

"No, I don't trust him _that_ much. But some things are more important that football. C'mere." She slid up until she was eye to eye with him again. He kissed her lips softly and lazily fondled a breast.

"All day, huh?" she murmured.

"That's right. I'm thinking for the next couple of hours, we can make love and nap and make love some more. Then we can go out for a late lunch around 1:30 before we pick up Gracie from school. Maybe take her to the park?"

Tami closed her eyes as he gently circled her nipple with his thumb.

"You like that plan?" he asked. "You like _this_?"

"I do." She opened her eyes and stilled his hand on her breast. "I very much like the first part of the plan. But I actually have to go to an interview about the same time Gracie gets out of school."

He drew his hand away. "What? You didn't tell me you'd applied for anything."

"I told you I was thinking about it."

"Well…yeah…I thought you wanted to get better first."

"I'm walking without a cane now. That's better enough. I think it's time, Eric. The position is only part-time. Three days a week."

"We just lost Carolyn."

"She told me yesterday she'd be happy to babysit part-time. She's teaching preschool during the day, when Gracie is in school. So as long as one of us can get Gracie to school in the morning, Carolyn can pick her up those three days and stay with her for two hours until I get home. My job won't start until January anyway. If I get it."

"What job?"

"River City High. It would only be a three mile commute. I applied for a guidance counselor position."

"It's not full-time?"

"They employ several part-time guidance counselors. To avoid paying benefits, I'm sure."

"You sure you want to do that again?" he asked.

"For now. It's a good job for me while I get...adjusted. And I loved my work as a counselor."

"A'ight, then. Good luck on your interview." He kissed her ear and whispered, "You need a good-luck fuck?"

"You know, you're not supposed to swear in front of a lady. Where are your country manners?"

"You told me they don't apply in bed."

She pretended to pout. "I know, but I thought you said we were going to _make love_ all morning."

"No reason we can't do a little of each."

She slid her hand down below his waist and gave him a little squeeze. "Frankly, you're not ready to do either yet. You need more recovery time."

"Oh, I'm always ready to make love, babe. That's a _process_." He kissed the base of her neck, then the valley between her breasts, before trailing kisses down to her belly button. When he kissed just below her belly button, she let her legs fall open. "You want something in particular?" he asked and kissed still lower.

Tami gasped. "Uh-huh."

"This?"

"God, yes!"

**[FNL]**

"Babe." Tami was jolted awake by Eric's voice. "It's one. Why don't you shower and we'll go get some lunch before your interview. We can take separate cars."

They sat in a secluded corner of a Mexican restaurant. The place was decorated for Halloween, which was coming up later this week. The lunch crowd had begun to thin out by the time they arrived.

"Can I be honest about something that's kind of bothering me?" Tami asked after they'd placed their orders and received their drinks.

"Umm…I thought we made up."

"We did." She took a sip of her margarita and set it down. "You didn't have casual sex in high school. You only slept with one other person before me, and she was a steady girlfriend. You took sex seriously. It was one of the things that attracted me to you. So I'm wondering why you would have considered that woman on the bourbon trail. I mean, forget adultery. Even if we weren't married, I'm having trouble imagining you just going up to some woman's hotel room for a night. That conversation I overheard was misleading, but even so, I'm kicking myself for believing you would do such thing when I was in a coma, when in my right mind, I couldn't even imagine you doing it _at all_."

"I didn't do it at all. I've never done anything like that."

"I know. But you did tell me you _wanted_ to. That your were tempted to."

"Look, you don't think I was ever tempted to have casual sex in high school? You don't think I didn't _want_ to, when rally girls were putting their panties in my locker? I just knew it was stupid. And kind of wrong. And that I would feel horrible later. You're right, I never would have gone up to that woman's room, even if I wasn't married. But I _thought_ about it. I felt the…desire. And I never would have done it, but I toyed with the idea longer than I ever would have if I wasn't going through what I was going through." He glanced at a passing waiter and returned his attention to her. "It was really hard, Tami. Not even being able to hear your _voice_. Not even a return kiss. Not even to have you squeeze my hand…I just…I missed you, but I also missed the physical...I don't know how to put this...it's just…you have no idea how pent up I've been."

"I have a little bit of an idea, hon."

He shook his head. "Chuck was an idiot for telling me I should tell you this stuff. If there's ever been a time when you thought about having sex with another man, I sure as hell don't want to hear about it."

"Maybe you didn't need to tell me quite so much, sugar, but it was kind of reassuring just to know you were comfortable being so open with me, that you trusted me not to freak out, especially after I _did_ freak out. I felt like you were giving me a second chance. Our openness with one another is one of the things that makes this marriage work, and I was starting to fear that after a year and a half of not talking at all, we might have lost our knack for that. I'm glad we haven't." She reached out and took his hand on the table. "We haven't quite been ourselves, have we? Either of us."

He leaned forward and put his other hand on her forearm. "Let's be ourselves together."

She leaned in and kissed him, and they parted when the waiter returned with their meals. The man put down the plates apologetically.

Tami picked up her fork and spread sour cream on her taco salad. "I'm still curious why you were so defensive of Chuck's womanizing. Why you just shrugged it off. Have you told him you disagree with that sort of thing?"

Eric picked up his fork and started layering chicken onto his tortilla. "First of all, I wouldn't call him a _womanizer_. That's a strong label. Second of all, guys don't really….I mean, I'm not his mother."

"You called Buddy out on the adultery, didn't you?"

"I told him he needed to think about his family."

"And?"

"And…I don't remember. Mostly that he needed to think about his family."

"That was all?"

"What else was there to say?"

Tami shrugged. "To Buddy, not much, I guess. It's just, I feel like you were actually _defending_ Chuck's behavior."

"I was defending _him_. Because I felt like you were attacking him. I felt like you were saying he's a bad person. And he's not. He's my _friend_. I mean a friend I can actually turn to for more than golfing and booster funds. And I've never had very many friends like that."

"Okay," Tami said softly. "I understand. Thanksgiving's next month. Let's invite Chuck and Sharon." Assuming, Tami thought, there hadn't been a rift between the two by then.

"So are we done fighting?"

"Forever?"

"On this topic," Eric clarified.

"I hope so. Thank you for forgiving me for my idiotic doubts."

"Thank you for forgiving me for selling your favorite painting."

Tami had actually entirely forgotten about that.

Eric wolfed down a couple of fajitas and asked, "Why are you barely eating?"

"I'm nervous about the interview."

He took her hand and squeezed it. "You're Tami Taylor. You've a been guidance counselor, a principal, and you've been offered a dean's position. This is a cake walk for you. If you don't get it, it's because that school is run by morons, and you don't want to work in a school run by morons."

She smiled. "I like you, Coach Taylor. You're cute."

"I aim to please." He drew his hand away and resumed eating.


	21. Chapter 21

**[Four days later]**

The doorbell rang.

"See!" Gracie yelled from where she sat on the living room couch. "I told you it wasn't too early to start trick or treating!"

"First, don't yell at me," Eric told her. "It's disrespectful. Second, go get on your costume."

"Mom is taking me, right? I want Mom to take me."

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm taking you," Tami said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." She'd already missed one Halloween with her Gracie Belle.

Eric would be staying behind to hand out the candy tonight.

Tami followed Eric to the door. When he answered, Chuck held out a shot glass to him and said, "Trick or treat."

"If that worked," Eric told him, "I'd be grabbing my shot glass and going with you."

"Oh, it works," Chuck replied. "You're my fourth house."

"Really?"

"No." Chuck walked into the house. "Need help passing out the loot?"

"Wouldn't you rather be giving out candy with Sharon?" Eric asked.

"I don't think Sharon's giving out any sugar tonight. At least not to me."

Tami glanced at Eric with a raised eyebrow, but Eric didn't say anything, so she did: "So, since she's not, you don't think she's worth your time?"

Eric looked embarrassed by her question, while Chuck appeared startled by her tone. "Sharon and I both took off work early today," he said. "We just spent a lovely three hours together. I cooked her dinner at her house, and we had a stimulating conversation about legal philosophy, and it was all very much worth my time. How was your interview on Monday, Tami?"

"I'm not sure it went well," she replied. "The principal kept returning to the fact that I've only had six years of work experience in my life. I was a stay-at-home mom for many years. He seemed to think that was a little narrow of me."

"Narrow," Chuck snorted. "Absurd. As Chesterton put it, _to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can imagine how this can exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people about one thing, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone and narrow to be everything to someone?_"

Tami smiled. "I like that." Her momentary irritation was disarmed. "Listen, y'all don't drink too much. Eric has a game tomorrow."

"Yes, of course," Chuck said.

Gracie ran into the foyer dressed as Hermione. Tami had begun reading her the second Harry Potter book. Carolyn had read her the first.

"You're a magician tonight?" Chuck asked her.

"No. I'm a witch! Hermione Granger."

"Ah, of course. I should have recognized you. I've just read a book called _If_ _Aristotle Ran Hogwarts_."

"Who's Air Is Tot L? "

"An ancient Greek philosopher."

"Like So Crates?" Gracie asked.

Chuck chortled. "Yes. Aristotle was Plato's pupil who in turn was Socrates pupil. Aristotle was a master of analytics and had a profound influence - "

"-Well," Gracie picked up her pumpkin. "This is kind of boring and I have to trick or treat."

"Gracie," Tami scolded. "Don't be rude," but her words were mostly drowned out by Chuck's laugh.

"You boys have fun," Tami said as she took Gracie's hand.

**[FNL]**

When Tami and Gracie returned home from trick-or-treating, Chuck was walking from the house. He looked as if he might be slightly buzzed, but it was hard to tell. He was walking with his shot glass in his hand.

"Go on in, sweetheart," Tami told her daughter. Gracie ran ahead into the house. "Are you fit to drive home?" Tami asked him.

"I'm not entirely sure," Chuck said. "So I'm going to see if Sharon will put me up for the night."

"You could stay at our house. We have a guest bedroom."

"I appreciate the offer, but I owe Sharon a night cap."

"Uh-huh." Tami sighed and half shook her head.

He slid his shot glass into the pocket of his tweed jacket. "Tami, I wish I had a better idea of why you don't seem to like me lately. I thought we hit it off well enough at the barbecue. I very much enjoy your husband's friendship. I don't want to risk it by alienating you."

"You haven't alienated me, Chuck. I'm sure there's are good reasons Eric likes you. He has an eye for character and a way of drawing out the best in people."

"That's what he said about you. That you have a way of drawing out the best in people. Happy Halloween, Tami." He began to walk away.

Tami called after him, and he turned. "Thank you for talking to Eric on Sunday," she said. "I think something you said might have made him less angry with me."

"Eric couldn't have stayed angry with you even if I had encouraged him to. Over twenty years of marriage, and that man is still head over heels in love with you. How do you find something like that? I thought that kind of thing only existed in theory."

Tami tried to answer his question, but she wasn't quite sure what to say.

"I thought I might be able to have something like that once, but I must have been deceiving myself, because when I proposed, she said no and moved on. I met Eric right after that. I met him at a low point in his life, angry, grieved, drunker than Falstaff, and looking for a fight. But he met me at a low point in my life too. Maybe that's not the best time to make friends. Or maybe it is. Goodnight, Tami." He waved behind himself as he walked down the sidewalk toward Sharon's house.

**[FNL]**

Gracie indulged in a few too many candies and went off to bed late and under much protest. Tami listened to her excited talk, read with her, and gave her a hug good night. As she returned to the kitchen, Eric was putting the candy-filled pumpkin up on top of the fridge. Next to it he placed the overflow plastic bag of candy Gracie had also acquired when the pumpkin was full.

"We're going to have to get rid of some that," Tami said. "It's just too much."

"How far did y'all go?"

"Three blocks," she answered.

"We had to work so much harder for our candy. It would have taken us three miles to get this kind of haul."

"Uphill, both ways, in the snow," Tami said.

Eric wrapped his arms around her waist, tugged her close, and kissed her. His tongue was salty and sweet. He must have been eating peanut M&Ms. He drew away and asked, "Was that one woman giving out sugar-free gum and dental floss again?"

Tami chuckled. "Gracie wanted to skip one house. That must have been the one. She also got really scared by some guy who jumped out of a tree dressed as a werewolf. Who does that to little kids?"

"That would be Hayden Smith. He'll be one of your high school students next year if you get that job. Which of course you will."

The position would not close to applicants until mid-November, and Tami wouldn't receive final word until December.

Eric said, "While you were putting Gracie to bed, Sharon called and asked if you wanted to come over and join her for a glass of wine."

"Isn't Chuck over there?"

"Not anymore. He was there for an hour. He went home."

"Drove home? He looked a little buzzed when I saw him," Tami said.

"He didn't drink that much. And it's been an hour. Sharon said she gave him a sobriety test and decided he was fit to drive home."

"What kind of test?"

"I think she made him name all of the philosophers backwards from Xenophon to Aristotle."

Tami chuckled. "Xenophon? Chuck's been teaching you."

"Nah," Eric said. "It was in that alphabet book Gracie used to have. X is for Xenophon, Greek historian and philosopher. You bought her that. It's your fault she's so damn smart. Most mothers just get books that say X is for Xylophone."

She smiled and kissed him.

"I'm probably not waiting up for you," he said, "What with having to meet the team bus early tomorrow. That a'ight?"

She nodded. "I don't think I'll be gone long though."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Sharon's house was tastefully and professionally decorated. Tami wondered if she'd had an interior designer do it. No doubt the woman could afford one as a partner in her law firm.

Sharon drew a bottle from the stainless steel wine fridge between her kitchen and living room. The lay-out of her house was the same as Tami and Eric's. Tami didn't like the cookie-cutter feel of the neighborhood, but when the alternative was living in the city, she had to agree with Eric that she preferred the quiet and safety of the suburbs, at least as long as they had Gracie living with them.

"This is a really good Cab/Merlot blend," Sharon said. "The fridge keeps it right at 65 degrees."

"I want a wine fridge," Tami told her.

Sharon set the bottle down on the kitchen bar and reached for a cork screw. "Then get one."

"Eric will think it's a ridiculous waste of money."

"Well, over the last year Eric's been buying new furniture and TVs and who knows what else. You deserve something picked out just for you."

"You're right," Tami agreed as Sharon handed her a glass of wine. "I absolutely do."

Sharon sat on the couch, motioned to the love seat, and said, "We should go shopping together Sunday morning."

"When do you get home from church?" Tami asked as she sat down.

"Oh, I don't go to church," Sharon replied. "I'm an atheist."

"Oh." An atheist who didn't believe in sex outside of marriage? She wanted to ask Sharon why, but that would reveal that Eric had mentioned it to her. More to the point, it would be rude.

"Does that bother you?" Sharon asked. "You look a little stunned. I know y'all go to church, but Eric didn't seem to care."

"No, I…no…I just….This is really good wine." Tami held up her glass and took a sip. "You have a beautiful house."

"Thank you." Sharon kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up onto the couch. "How well do you know Charles?" she asked.

"Chuck?" Tami asked. She wondered why Sharon insisted on calling him Charles, when he didn't seem to go by it. Probably because Chuck was one of the least sexy names imaginable. Although, Tami didn't find Charles that appealing either. It was hard to imagine seriously calling out either name during sex. Eric was a good enough name to moan. "Not well," Tami said. She briefly wondered if she should hint to Sharon that Chuck's views on sex were considerably more casual than Sharon's own. Instead, she said, "I met him the same day you did. But Eric seems to like him."

"We've had three dates. I cooked dinner for him the night after you had us over. Then he took me to a concert Wednesday night in the city."

"Who was playing?" Tami asked. She hoped she hadn't missed out on some good country artist.

"The symphony. We should all go together sometime. Me and you and Chuck and Eric."

"The symphony is going to be a hard sell for Eric," Tami said, although the truth was, she didn't want to go. She'd only sat through a symphony once in her life, on a high school field trip, and while it was impressive for the first fifteen minutes, once the novelty wore off, she'd found it to be excruciatingly boring. Why Eric had tried to use the symphony and the ballet as selling points on their drive from the care facility to San Angelo, Tami didn't know. The only ballet she'd ever watched was the Nutcracker. She'd taken Julie to see it in Dallas when the girl was eleven. And of course she'd watched all of Julie's recitals for the four years she'd done ballet, before she'd switched to jazz dance.

"I thought Eric _liked_ classical music," Sharon said. "He had it on once when I stopped by."

Eric put on classical music occasionally. He said it made good background music because it didn't disturb his thinking. "I think it's more accurate to say that it doesn't annoy him. So did you enjoy the symphony?"

"I did. And Charles was incredibly handsome dressed up for it. He's charming, intelligent, and a good cook. He cooked for me tonight. He did something with the asparagus…I don't know what he did, but it was fantastic. He's a great conversationalist, and he makes me laugh."

"Well, that's a good start."

Sharon sipped her wine again and then rested the stem of her glass on her knee. "I don't think it's going to last long."

"Why's that?" Tami asked.

"Because I don't believe in sex outside of marriage."

This was an opening Tami could use to satisfy her curiosity about Sharon's personal beliefs, but she didn't. Instead she asked, "Was he pressuring you tonight?"

"No. He read my cues and he followed them. But I can read his cues, too, and it's clear he wants it. So, at some point in the next couple of months, I assume he's going to break up with me if I haven't put out."

"Have you told him how you feel? About sex outside of marriage?"

"No, because that will probably just hasten the break-up, and I'm having a good time. I want to draw this out for a while. He makes me feel good about myself. And I haven't felt good about myself since I found out Mark was cheating. I already hate that it's going to end."

"If he breaks up with you over that, he's not worth it. I always told my daughter Julie – don't ever do anything because you think you have to do it in order to keep a boy. _You_ have to want it."

"Oh, I _want_ it," Sharon said. "I really enjoyed sex when I was married, and I am very attracted to Charles, but it's important to me to reserve that for marriage. I'm not sure why, but probably because my mother was a whore."

Tami choked on her wine and spit a little out. "Excuse me," she said, wiping at her knee where the droplets had landed. Sharon got her a napkin and brought it back and Tami wiped up the wine.

"Don't misinterpret me," Sharon said as she sat back down. "I'm not being disrespectful. She actually _was_ a whore, by profession."

Tami had talked to Sharon only a handful of times since moving in three houses down. They'd seemed to hit it off recently, but Tami certainly hadn't anticipated this level of intimacy when Sharon invited her over for a glass of wine.

"Eric said you have a psychology degree and a counseling certification and that you used to be a counselor, so I figured nothing would shock you. Guess I was wrong?"

"I just…"

Sharon smiled. "It's okay, Tami. You're allowed to be shocked. I haven't mentioned my mother to Eric, and I would appreciate it if you didn't."

Tami wasn't sure she could promise that, so she didn't. But Sharon didn't wait for a promise. "My mother wasn't even a high-end hooker," she continued. "I grew up in a trailer park. She was a drug addict. I don't know who my father was. In retrospect, I'm surprised she didn't have an abortion, but she didn't. Sometimes she forgot to buy groceries. I learned to fend for myself very early on. I developed an ambition to escape that world when I was quite young. Luckily for me, I was smart, and there were teachers who noticed that. There was one teacher who would let me stay after school and do accelerated work and feed me a second lunch that passed as my dinner. I skipped a grade and got a full academic scholarship to UT-Austin. I didn't want anything to do with men until I was done with law school, which I was by twenty-three. That was when I had my first date. I had fun dating for a few years, but it never lasted long, not when I wasn't willing to have sex. Eventually, though, I met Mark. He was still dating me after eight months. He'd made it that long, so I thought he must be the one, and I said yes when he proposed. It occurs to me now that he might have been getting it on the side even back then."

"Oh, Sharon..."

"I guess it's a good thing we couldn't have children." Sharon sat up a little straighter. "I've decided I don't mind being alone most of the time. So my plan is to focus on my ambitions, like I did in the beginning. I'll date men here and there and have a little fun for as long as it takes for them to break up with me, but at the end of the day, I know it's just me. Like it's always been. Since I was a kid. And I'm okay with that."

"You don't sound okay with that," Tami told her.

"Don't I?"

"If you were, would you be telling me any of this at all?"

Sharon ran a finger around the rim of her wine glass. "I'm sorry I spilled all of this on you. It must seem very strange to you, given that we don't know each other very well. But I've heard a lot about you from Eric over the past year. A lot. And you seemed like someone I could talk to."

"Then talk to me."

**[FNL]**

"What time is it?" Eric asked when Tami got into bed.

"2 shay-m."

He clicked the light on the alarm clock to verify. "Are you drunk?" he asked.

She giggled and held two fingers a small distance apart. "Can you get Grashie to shool tomorrow?"

"There's no school tomorrow, babe. And you know I've got an away game. You know I've got to meet the bus at 7."

"Oh. I'm shoooo sorry." Tami put a hand on her forehead. The room was spinning a little.

"And you told _me_ not to drink too much." He propped himself up on an elbow and kissed her forehead. "You obviously aren't taking Gracie to the game like this. It's a three hour drive anyway. Stay home, get some rest. Recover."

She nodded. And then, with her eyes still closed, she smiled and bopped her head as if listening to music.

He threw back the covers and clicked on the bedside lamp. "I'm going to get you a glass of water." When he returned she sat up just enough to drink it down. "You want to sleep on my side in case you need to get to the bathroom to throw up?" His side was closest to the master bath.

She scooted over onto his side. He flicked off the lamp and crawled into bed on her side. "You have a good time with Sharon?"

"We had a good talk," Tami said. "A good loooooooong talk." She rolled over and put a hand on his cheek. "I love you sho mush, shugar. Sho mush. You're sho sexy. Good Lord, you're shexy!"

"I wish I was this sexy when you were sober."

"Hey! Would you have ever broken up wish me if we hadn't had shex?"

"Uh…."

"We only dated five monsh before we had shex."

"Well," Eric said, "I believe you initiated the first time. I assumed you were more than ready when I woke up to find you'd crawled into my sleeping bag."

"I wash. But what if I washn't? What if I washn't ready in nine, ten, twelve monsh? Would you have broken up wish me? Would you? Huh? Would you?"

"Tami, why don't we discuss this tomorrow evening?"

She giggled. "Let's do it now."

"Tami, I don't want to have this conversation right now."

"No, I mean, let's do IT!" She reached down and squeezed him.

He pushed her hand away. "No."

"Why? Ish okay. We're married! I won't regret it in the morning."

"You won't _remember_ it in the morning. You'll pass out before we're half way through. No thank you. Go to sleep, babe." He kissed her. "Nite."

She closed her eyes and muttered, "Nite."

A minute later, she was snoring lightly, and he was wide awake. He reached for his phone and began to text Carolyn, but then remembered she'd be at the game to watch Damien. He couldn't ask Sharon. She would probably be just as hung over as Tami. So he texted Chuck –

_Can you come over tomorrow morning and watch Gracie for a few hours while Tami recovers from a hangover? Gracie will be up about 9. You've got my key. Just come in. _

He knew Chuck liked to go for a run early in the morning, not later than 8 AM, and thought he should have a response by then. If the response was no, and worst came to worst, Tami could just turn on the electronic babysitter.

He was about to put the phone down when it buzzed. Chuck had replied: **I love that you use complete sentences in text messages. **

Eric texted back: _Why are you up? You're not drinking are you?_

**I'm up because my phone just honked at me, owing to your text message. **

_Can you help?_

**I was planning to go to your game tomorrow.**

_Like hell you were. _

**I watch them all on TV though. **

_Can you watch Gracie or not?_

**I'll be at your house at 8:50. However, the next time you get your wife smashed, you might want to make sure you don't have a game the next morning. **

_I didn't get her smashed. Sharon did. She just got home. _

**Really? Sharon told me she had to go to bed early because she has a debriefing in the morning.**

_I hope you didn't pun off of that._

**I was sorely tempted to tell her I'd be happy to debrief her tonight, but I refrained.**

_Tomorrow? 8:45? _

**Yes. Good luck at your game.**

Eric slapped his phone down on the dresser and, now that he was less worried about how Tami would function alone in the morning, he went back to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

Tami groaned, rolled sideways in bed, and put a hand to her forehead. At least she wasn't nauseous anymore. She'd done all of her vomiting between 5:00 and 6:00 am. Eric had been snoring away softly, so at least she hadn't awakened him. He was probably already peeved she wasn't going to make it to his game; keeping him up would have been the icing on the cake of his irritation.

She glanced at the clock. 10:45 AM. Gracie was usually up at 9 on Saturdays. Tami was surprised she hadn't come in to wake her up by now. She didn't want to get out of bed, but she dragged herself out anyway, all the while scolding herself for her irresponsibility.

When Tami came out into the living room, Chuck was standing behind the kitchen bar and pointing to the television mounted above the living room fireplace. "There he is! There's your daddy!"

"Daddy! " Gracie yelled, and waved with both arms at the television. She stopped and appeared suddenly embarrassed. "I know he can't see me," she said. "That's not why I was waving."

Tami rubbed her eyes and wondered what Chuck was doing in her kitchen.

"Good morning, sunshine," Chuck called to Tami. "Your husband asked me to help you out this morning. His game is about to start. I watch all his games on television."

"No you don't," Gracie said. "Because they aren't all on television. This is game of the week."

"Can I get you some coffee, Tami. Or some frittata?" Chuck pointed to a pan on the stove in which he'd apparently cooked some kind of spinach-egg dish. It looked good, but her stomach lurched at the thought of it.

"No, thank you. Not eggs." She was suddenly conscious that she was in sweats and a T-shirt she only vaguely remembered putting on. She buried a hand in her hair and realized it was a tangled mess.

"Dr. Thompson made me happy face pancakes," Gracie said. "M&M eyes, strawberry nose, bacon mouth, whip cream hair."

Just what Gracie needed. A sweet breakfast after last night's Halloween candy bender.

"I also got you plain donuts, Tami," Chuck said, pointing to a box on the bar. "Eric once mentioned it was your favorite hangover food."

"What's a hangover?" Gracie asked him.

"A hangover," Chuck said, "is when an adult drinks far too much alcohol and feels sick the next morning."

"Chuck!" Tami shot him a warning look.

"I'm sorry, Tami, I thought honesty was the best policy in this house."

Gracie looked her mother over. "Why would an adult drink too much?"

"Because even adults make mistakes sometimes, sweetheart," Tami told her.

"The important thing, Gracie," Chuck said, "is not to drive when you've had too much to drink. So, Tami, coffee and donuts?"

She groaned. "No thank you."

"Go back to bed," Chuck insisted. "Gracie and I will watch the game and play some Stratego."

Tami stumbled back to bed and slept hard for another hour. When she emerged again, she settled on the couch and looked up at Eric's game. Damien Washington, according to the commentators, had just thrown a touchdown pass. The camera replayed the pass and then briefly panned to the sidelines, where from his gestures and expression, Eric appeared to be gloating to his offensive coordinator. She smiled. _He told you so._

"Score's tied now," Chuck told Tami. He and Gracie were on the floor with the board game spread out on the coffee table. Chuck put a finger on one of his Stratego pieces. "Remind me again. The 1 can only be taken by a spy, right?"

"Yeah," Gracie said. "I think I know where your 1 is now." She turned to Tami. "I won the first and second game."

Tami smiled. She couldn't imagine how.

"You want that coffee now, Tami?" Chuck asked. "I can warm it up."

"Please."

He brought her the coffee and a plain donut. He resumed his game with Gracie while Tami watched Eric's.

"Are the Saints favored to win?" Chuck asked.

"They've lost to this team for the past ten years," Tami told him. She'd caught herself up on the history of the Saints. "But it looks like Eric could actually win this one. It's going to be tight. Do you follow college football at all?"

"Not really."

"What made you interested in philosophy?" Tami asked.

"Initially, a girl."

_Of course_, Tami thought.

"I signed up for a Philosophy 101 class because this gorgeous girl told me she'd signed up for it, and I thought if I sat next to her I could get her to go out with me."

"And did you?"

"No. But I loved the class. I'd been taking mostly general requirements my first semester, but I was bored out of my skull. I've always been a reader, and I've always loved ideas. I used to try to talk about them in high school, and guys would ridicule me, so I learned to shut up. But in college I realized there were people who did not think thinking about things was uncool."

Gracie captured Chuck's flag and gloated.

"If you're feeling better," Chuck asked Tami, "do you mind if I run over to Sharon's? I recall her mentioning that chocolate croissants were her favorite breakfast, and I bought some this morning. And I'd like to see how she's feeling."

"I'm fine now," Tami said, "but you better call first and give her some warning. You can't just show up at a woman's house unannounced. Especially when she's…" She glanced at Gracie as she trailed off.

"Hung over?" Gracie asked. "Smashed? Three sheets to the wind?"

Tami raised an eyebrow at Chuck.

"Your daughter was asking a lot of questions," he said and stood from the floor. "She wanted to explore the vocabulary."

Tami shook her head but smiled. Gracie did have a way of asking question after question after question until you felt like you'd exhausted all your stores of information.

Chuck took out his cell phone and dialed. "Hello, Sharon," he said. "This is Chuck. How did your debriefing go this morning? . . . Really? That well? On less than five hours of sleep and a hangover? . . . I know because Eric asked me to come over and watch Gracie this morning while Tami recovered. . . Sharon, if I ever overstay my welcome, please just tell me directly to leave. You don't have to make up an excuse."

Gracie started setting up her Stratego pieces again on her side of the board.

"Would you mind if I came over now?" Chuck asked. "I got you some chocolate croissants . . . Yes, I know they're your favorite. You mentioned it when we were at the symphony." Chuck laughed. "An _ear_ for detail? Yes. I suppose I do."

Gracie had all of her pieces out now, and she began switching them around.

Chuck glanced at his wristwatch. "Okay. I'll see you then." He put away his phone, held up a finger to Gracie, and said, "One more game."

Tami watched Chuck play Stratego with her daughter, and wondered if she should try to have a conversation about Sharon. She had advised Sharon three times to tell Chuck how she felt about sex outside of marriage, so he could decide whether or not he was willing to pursue the relationship under those circumstances and so Sharon wouldn't have to keep subtly putting him off. Sharon seemed determined not to mention it, however, because she was sure it would precipitate an earlier breakup. "Better now than after you start to feel really attached," Tami told her. "That's when it will hurt most."

Tami supposed it wasn't her place to say anything about that to Chuck if Sharon had chosen not to, but she did observe, "You and Sharon have been spending a lot of time together recently."

"Mhmmmm. Attack nine."

"Mine's a seven," Gracie said, "you lose. I have to go to the bathroom."

When Gracie was gone, Tami asked, "Just out of curiosity, are you looking at this thing with Sharon as a casual thing, or a potentially more long-term thing?"

He looked away from his pieces to her. "We've been dating for about a _week_. How could I possibly know?"

Against her better judgment, Tami said what she was thinking. "Well, I get the idea that sometimes you go into these things deliberately looking for only a short fling. So I guess I'm wondering if you're planning to make Sharon another notch on your belt."

Chuck scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. "Eric gave me the impression you were a non-judgmental sort of person with a big heart. But you've seen me three times and already you've decided I'm reprobate."

Tami opened her mouth and then shut it. She felt bad for not being more judicious with her words. Chuck was Eric's closest friend, the man he'd trust to call to help in a pinch. "I don't think you're _reprobate_, Chuck. I'm not judging you, but I'm concerned for Sharon because we've become friends."

The toilet flushed in the bathroom between Gracie's room and the guest bedroom.

"You _are_ judging me," Chuck said. "That's fine. We all judge other people. Just don't _condemn_ me quite yet."

"I – "

"- Oh, and you're quite welcome, Tami. I was happy to give up my morning to come help while you recovered."

Gracie came running into the living room and plopped down on the other side of the coffee table from Chuck.

"The flag," Chuck asked, with his finger on his flag, "it can be captured by any piece, right?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Eric didn't get home until after Gracie was in bed. The team bus had broken down on the way back to SAEU. He slid down onto the living room couch with a heavy sigh. Tami poured him some bourbon and sat down next to him.

"Thank you," he said and took a sip.

She took off his cap and ran a hand through his thick hair. "You need a shower," she said. "Wash off that game dirt."

"I know. I just need to sit a few minutes." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Great game. I watched it."

"Then you know we lost," he said.

"Yes, but only by a field goal. And the Saints have never come that close to defeating that team have they?"

"No. But my offensive coordinator thinks if I had started Juarez instead of Washington we would have won." He opened his eyes and took another sip of his bourbon.

"Do you think that?" Tami asked.

"I don't think we'd have come as close," Eric said. "But he thinks I lost the game with my decision, and it's never good when your assistants lose respect for you."

Tami put an elbow on the back of the couch and leaned her head against her hand. "I'm sorry, hon."

"I wish you'd have been there. You're my good luck charm. We might have won."

"Oh, sugar. I'm so sorry. I already feel horrible about letting myself drink _that_ much." She did feel good, however, to know he needed her at the games. She'd wondered if he cared anymore, since he'd played so many without her presence, and since he hadn't been searching for her smile in the stands as often as he used to. "Are you mad at me for being hung over?"

"Nah. I'm glad you had a good time with Sharon." He stretched his arm out behind the couch and over her shoulders. "What were y'all talking about?"

"Oh, everything. Career, dating, life, love, sex."

He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Did you tell her how fantastic I am in bed?"

"I told her all of your favorite positions."

He jerked his head back. "_What?_"

"I'm kidding you, sweetheart." She kissed his cheek. She wanted to tell him about the shocker Sharon had dropped about her mother, but there was no reason she _needed_ to share that with him. Sharon had asked her not to, and to do so would only be to give into a gossipy urge. Instead, she said, "In case Chuck mentions it, you should probably know we had a little bit of a…just a tiny tiff today."

"What? Why? What did he say to you?"

"Weellll," she admitted, "it was more what I said to him."

Eric eyed her warily.

"I asked him about his intentions toward Sharon, if they're casual, if he's just, you know, looking to make her another notch on his belt."

"Did you use those words?"

She bit her lip. "Yes," she admitted.

"Tami." Eric addressed her with the same tone he used when coaching. "How could you be so rude to him when he came over to help you?"

"I apologized before he left. I know I shouldn't have said it, but I'm worried about Sharon. I like her, and she's been through some rough times with her ex and in her childhood."

"Sharon is a grown woman. Chuck is a grown man. These aren't high school kids you're counseling. You need to let them make their own decisions."

"_Now_ you're mad at me," she said.

"I'm irritated." He sighed. "I just wanted you and Chuck to get along."

"We'll get along, sugar. I won't be rude to him again, and we'll get along just fine."

"Nah, I mean I want you to _like_ him. It feels like a judgment on me that you don't. I don't know _why _I feel that way. I just do."

"Okay." She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like that. I certainly didn't mean to." She let her hand rest on his shoulder. "Chuck was very considerate to come and help out this morning. He was great with Gracie. He thinks of other people, remembers their favorite things. He's intelligent and – "

"- A'ight," Eric said. "Enough. I don't need you to sing his praises." He drained the rest of his bourbon. "I better take that shower now."

"You want me to join you?" Tami felt pathetic about the attempt even as she made it, but these days it bothered her more to let disagreements linger without a speedy reconciliation. They'd been apart too long.

"No," he said. "I need to clear my head."

When he came to bed later, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. She snuggled up against the cool fabric of his white t-shirt, her head on his chest. He felt tense, and it worried her. "I'm sorry, Eric. I love you."

He let an arm fall over her shoulders, and, to her relief, answered, "I love you too."

"Are you still angry with me?"

"Nah. I'm thinking about the game. If I had just changed that one play…"

She kissed his shoulder. "I wish I could help get your mind off of it."

This time, she hadn't meant her words as a sexual invitation. She really did wish she could help. But he took it as one, because he rolled on his side and kissed her. She could feel his lips curving at the corners against hers. He murmured, "I can think of _several_ ways you could distract me."

He'd never been this quick to reconcile after a fight. Maybe he was frightened too. Maybe he needed as much reassurance as she did.

She slid a hand underneath his shirt and whispered in his ear, "Tell me what you want."

**[FNL]**

The Saints won their next game, and that same weekend, Jess Merriweather spent Saturday night at the Taylors' house. She'd applied for a transfer to SAEU in the spring and was certain she'd get in, especially with Coach Taylor's recommendation. She'd come for the weekend to watch one of the home games and get acquainted with the campus. They were now finishing up dinner in the kitchen nook. Gracie had already been excused from the table and she was on the computer. Tami thought Eric let her play on the computer too much, but the girl did at least seem to be playing creative games, and Tami had decided not to try to re-establish her parenting authority all at once. She'd been making only little rule changes here and there.

"Have you declared a major?" Tami asked Jess.

"Not yet," Jess answered. "I decided I want to study kinesiology. That's why I'm transferring. They have a really specific program at SAEU. Also, of course, I want to shadow Coach Taylor."

"Kinesiology," Tami repeated. As a guidance counselor, she'd been familiar with most majors. "The University of Houston has a good Ph.D. program in that, if you decided to continue that route further."

"I don't think I want to go to graduate school. I want to become the head coach of a high school after college."

"Jess," Eric said, "it doesn't work like that. You don't just walk into a coaching position – "

" - I know. I didn't mean right away. I figure I'll teach P.E. and start out as an assistant coach."

"Then why kinesiology?" Tami asked. "Why not physical education?"

"I think kinesiology will be more useful to me. It has classes in the care and prevention of athletic injuries, the theory of coaching football, the theory and analysis of team sports…it's more substantial. And I think I'll meet more interesting and intelligent people than I would as a phys ed major."

"_I_ was a phys ed major," Eric told her.

Jess smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean – "

"- But you were already taken when you started college, sugar," Tami told Eric. "Not to stereotype, hon, but I can see why Jess might have a better pool to fish from in kinesiology."

"Mrs. Taylor, I'm going to college to get my B.A., not my Mrs."

"Of course you are," Tami said. "I apologize, Jess. I didn't mean – "

"- We're all stumbling over our words today, aren't we?" Jess asked.

"I haven't made any gaffes," Eric insisted.

Tami smiled at him and teased, "Only because you've been stuffing your mouth with brisket almost nonstop since we sat down."

"No, because I'm intelligent," he said, "despite being a phys ed major." He licked barbecue sauce off his fingers.

"Hon, you have a napkin."

Eric looked at Jess. "Until she woke up from that coma, I just ate from a trough."

Jess snorted.

"Well, you are going to require _some_ retraining, sugar."

Eric smiled at Tami with a twinkle in his eye. "Some things you never forget, though. Like riding…a bicycle."

Tami chuckled and then rose and began clearing the table. "I know you two want to go upstairs and write all over the wall. I'll take care of this. And then, since Gracie's busy on that Minecraft thing, I might pop over to Sharon's for a glass of wine."

Eric put his napkin on the table. "_A_ glass?" he asked.

"Yes," Tami said. "Just one. Cross my heart."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Tami took the glass of wine Sharon offered her across the kitchen bar.

"You two really keep in touch with your high school students, don't you?" Sharon asked. "This young lady over at your house now, and Eric had some strapping young man down here last year to build him some bookcases."

"That would be Tim Riggins." Tami took a small sip. "And, yes, we do try to keep in touch with them. Although I've been out of touch for some time. With everything." _Even with myself_, she thought.

Sharon walked to the living room and slid down on the couch. She didn't have kitchen bar stools like the Taylors did. Tami sat on the loveseat kitty corner from her.

"I can't imagine how difficult that kind of adjustment must be," Sharon said. "To lose that much time. Are you settling into your new life, though?"

"I think so. I haven't heard back about that job I applied for yet, but I think I'll feel more at home when I'm working again. Right now, I still sometimes feel like an accessory to the life Eric's built. I was so used to us building our life together."

"Is that why you don't like Chuck?"

Tami put her wine glass on the end table between the couch and the loveseat. "I don't dislike Chuck."

"He seems to think you do. And I wonder if it isn't because one day you woke up and found your husband had a real connection with someone else, a connection you never got to see develop. You woke up, and it just _was_. You were the third wheel to that relationship."

The first wave of emotion to sweep over Tami was irritation. How ridiculous. If she didn't precisely fawn over Chuck, it was only because she thought he was a bit of a rake, a fact she had yet to share with Sharon. "Well, Sharon, the thing is – " She stopped. She stopped long enough to think for a moment, and she wondered if Sharon didn't have a point. "Do you think I'm _jealous_ of Chuck?"

Sharon shrugged. "I think you were a little bit jealous of me at first, until we got to know each other. But you and I are probably already better friends than Eric and I ever were. I was Eric's neighbor and, when he needed me, his lawyer. And he did lend an ear when I needed it, which is what friends do. But it's never been the same as the friendship he has with Chuck."

"You know, this may sound weird," Tami told her, "but the last time I remember Eric having a _real_ friend was in high school."

"Before you two were seriously involved?"

"Yes," Tami said.

"You became his best friend," Sharon told her. "And Eric's the kind of guy that probably doesn't need more than one. But he was without his best friend for a year and a half. So he got one. And you're not used to sharing that role with someone else."

"Maybe," Tami said. "And I guess I _need_ to get used to it." She plucked her wine from the end table. "So how's that going? Between you and Chuck?"

"I'm still enjoying myself," Sharon said. "We went out three times last week. Yesterday night he took me to a guest lecture."

Tami tried to suppress her smile.

"I know. It doesn't sound very romantic. But it was interesting. It was about Immanuel Kant on the philosophy of law and the science of right." Sharon held up a hand. "I'm sure it sounds boring to you, but it interested both of us, for different reasons. We went out for drinks at a wine bar later and talked about it."

"A guest lecture? On a Friday night? Were any students actually there?"

"Just the ones who know they can't get laid," Sharon said.

"Have you told Chuck yet?" Tami asked her. "How you feel about sex outside of marriage?"

"No. He invited me to his apartment last night since we were both a little tipsy and it was two blocks from the wine bar, but I declined and he called me a cab. There have been other hints, and he's made a few moves, but he backs off as soon as I hint that it's time to back off. I'm not sure how long that's going to last, but it's working for now."

"Sharon, you should tell him."

"How long did Eric wait for you after you started dating?"

"As long as I wanted him to," Tami said.

"Yes, but how long was that?"

"Five months."

"And did you tell him, after two weeks of dating, I don't want to have sex for five months?"

"No, of course not. But I didn't have any specific time in mind. You have a very specific position about this."

"You're right, I do," Sharon said. "And it's the kind of specific position that scares men off. I mentioned it to Eric once. I hope he won't tell Chuck. Do you think he would?"

"Eric doesn't share the things other people tell him. Well…except sometimes to me, and even then only if it's relevant to some discussion we're having."

"Good. Please ask him not to."

"You can't put the truth off forever, Sharon," Tami told her.

"I'm not going to put it off forever," she said. "Just for as long as I can."

Tami decided she wasn't going to get anywhere with her advice, so she changed the subject, or at least u-turned it. "Chuck's clever and witty. He's entertaining to be around. But to be honest, I don't really understand how he and Eric got to be such good friends. They don't really have anything in common."

"They both like bourbon," Sharon said. "And beer."

"An entire friendship built around bourbon and beer?"

"Why not? They're guys. And they were both college athletes who missed going pro by this much," Sharon said, holding her finger and thumb a short distance apart. "I'm sure they talk about the good old days."

"What? Chuck doesn't even _follow_ football."

"Baseball," Sharon said. "He went to college on a full baseball scholarship. You didn't know that?"

Tami shook her head. "He never mentioned it. Eric never mentioned it."

"Well, it was a long time ago. Baseball isn't really a part of his life anymore. I mean, he watches the games. But it's not a huge part of his life, the way football is for Eric. Chuck says he was good at the game, but not good enough, that when it comes to professional sports, you can't be in the top 2% of athletes. You have to be in the top 0.02%. I guess Eric knows about that. Chuck couldn't make the majors and didn't want to bother with the minors. Too much work, too little pay. So after college he took a job teaching Logic at a classical high school."

"Because teaching is not too much work for too little pay?" Tami asked.

Sharon laughed. "Point taken. Anyway, he was teaching full-time and going to graduate school and he just let the whole baseball thing slide by the wayside."

"So they both like bourbon," Tami said, "they were both college athletes, and they've both taught high school. Before he was a head coach Eric taught a bunch of things." Tami ticked the subjects off on her fingers: "P.E., Weightlifting, Health, Driver's Ed, Shop, History, and Algebra."

"Algebra?" Sharon asked.

"Yeah. He had to fill in for a year until they could find someone more permanent. Back then they didn't care as much about what you majored in. He was actually a decent Algebra teacher. He might have gone far in math if he'd ever been the least bit interested in it. It was Shop he made a mess of." She laughed. "That was a very frustrating semester for him."

"Well then maybe he and Chuck also share a lack of handyman skills." Sharon waved her wine glass. "I asked Chuck to look at my air conditioner on Wednesday." They'd had an oddly warm day on Wednesday, just after it seemed that fall had permanently arrived. "It just wouldn't turn on. He looked at it, pretended to bang around on it, and said, Yep, it's broken."

Tami laughed. "Been there."

**[FNL]**

When Tami got home, Jess and Eric were still upstairs. She could hear them dissecting this morning's game, arguing almost like colleagues.

"I'm back," she called up. She glanced through Gracie's open door. The girl was laying on her stomach on the bed and reading. At least she was off the computer.

Eric appeared at the railing of the loft. "You sober?"

"Yes!"

"Good, because Chuck called. He's getting a poker game going tonight. I'd like to run over to his apartment for a bit, if that a'ight."

"Sure," Tami said, though she'd been looking forward to a quiet evening with Eric around. "You have a good time, hon. Jess and Gracie and I can watch a chick flick."

Jess appeared at the landing now. "A movie sounds great, but I don't really watch chick flicks, Mrs. Taylor."

Gracie had overheard this exchange and now rushed into the foyer and asked, "Is there going to be popcorn?"

**[FNL]**

At 11:30 PM, Tami turned on the lamp beside her bed and texted Eric to see when he was planning on coming home.

**Poker over**, he texted back. **I'm buzzed. OK if I stay here? Home in time church tmrw. **

He was buzzed all right, if he was using fragments and abbreviations in his texts. She'd rather he take a cab home. She liked having him in bed beside her at night. It was comforting. _Okay_, she texted. _That's fine. How did you do?_

**Lost $30.**

_Love you, sugar._

**Luv you 2.**

_Lord, you are buzzed._

**;)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

"I can't wait to meet this man my sister is marrying," Tami said as she peeled the potatoes.

"Who calls himself Nicholas?" Eric asked as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. He glanced at the TV above the fireplace in the living room. It was still on commercial. "Why doesn't he go by Nick?"

"That really bothers you, honey, doesn't it?"

"It's pretentious. Not even Chuck calls himself Charles."

"No, but Sharon calls him Charles."

"Well that's different. But this guy is calling _himself_ Nicholas."

"Would you baste the turkey, babe?"

"Game's back on."

"It'll take you two minutes. I'm peeling here."

Eric sighed. He stepped over to the oven and opened it.

"Don't sigh. I have to get these peeled. I've got to leave in three minutes to pick up Matt and Julie from the airport."

"Just leave the skin on," Eric said. "They taster better that way anyway."

"Matt won't eat them skin on. Now I do need you to at least boil and mash these potatoes while I go pick up our daughter. You can see the TV from the stovetop." The stovetop was on the center island.

"A'ight, a'ight."

**[FNL]**

When Tami, Matt, and Julie got into the house, Gracie threw herself into her big sister's arms and then turned to Matt. "Hi, Uncle Matt."

"I'm not you're uncle," Matt said. "I'm going to be your brother-in-law."

"Hi, brother-in-law Matt!"

Matt ruffled her hair, but she jerked her head away and said, "That's rude."

"I got my invitation yesterday," Tami said as Julie trailed her into the kitchen. Matt joined Eric in front of the TV, and Gracie sat between them and opened a book.

Tami checked on the turkey, saw Eric had boiled but not yet mashed the potatoes, and began mashing them. "They're beautiful, Jules. I love the Bible verse y'all chose. But I still don't understand why you aren't having the wedding in Texas. Both of your families are here. And it's cold in Chicago in December. Really cold."

"The wedding will be in a church, Mom. They have heat. And all of our friends are in Chicago. You know, I've lived there for almost two years now."

Tami felt another one of those reminder pangs – she'd missed a year and a half of her older daughter's life too.

"And most of our friends can't afford to fly to Texas. But you and Dad," she glanced around the expansive kitchen, "are loaded now, and Dad said he'll pay for Grandma Saracen's ticket, and that you'll fly with her and pay for her hotel too."

"We're not loaded," Tami said. "Your father makes a nice salary, yes, but there's no guarantee it will continue."

"He's done pretty well this season. Why wouldn't they renew his contract? And you're going back to work after winter break."

Tami had not secured the guidance counselor positon for which she initially interviewed, but she had secured another one, at a high school slightly farther away. "I want to see the flower options," she said. "You brought the book, right?"

The doorbell rang. "Aunt Shelley!" Julie squealed, and ran to answer it. Gracie slid off the couch and ran after her. Tami had a little mashed potatoes on her hands and rinsed them off. She heard Julie's confused and disappointed, "Uh…hello…" and then heard Chuck introducing himself and Sharon. Soon the couple was in the house, Chuck having been offered a beer by Eric and settling on the couch, and Sharon having deposited a bottle of wine on the kitchen bar.

"You got the wine fridge!" Sharon said, pointing to the contraption against the wall between the living room and kitchen. "It's nicer than mine."

"Well, I'm worth it," Tami said. "Open that for us. My sister was supposed to be here an hour ago, but she's late as usual."

"We eat at half time whether she's here or not," Eric called from the living room.

"We can't do that, hon. She's bringing her fiancé."

"No!" he shouted. "Come on!"

"Excuse me?" Tami shot back.

"He was talking to the TV, Tami," Chuck said. "Not to you."

Eric was standing now. "Penalty!"

The doorbell rang again. "Aunt Shelley!" It was Gracie squealing it this time.

"Come meet my sister," Tami said to Sharon.

"I've met her," Sharon reminded her. "She lived here for a month." It seemed Tami would never be allowed to forget the time she'd lost.

Shelley came in the door alone, shut it, and then handed out hugs and new dresses to her nieces.

"I love it. It's gorgeous," Julie told her as she held the dress up to herself.

"I love it. It's gorgeous!" Gracie echoed, although she was peering at the dress as though maybe she didn't love it. "I'm going to put it in my room." She walked from the foyer.

"You remember Sharon," Tami told Shelley as she shut the door.

"Yeah, we've met," Shelley said. "You brought that awesome rice casserole."

"I don't think so," Sharon said. "I don't do casseroles."

"Oh no, that's right. You brought the Malbec! I hope you brought some more of that tonight."

"Well, I brought a different one," Sharon said.

"Where's Nicholas?" Tami asked.

"Oh, that's over," Shelley said with a wave of her hand. "That didn't work out."

Tami looked at her sister. "But you were engaged."

"Yeah, well, win some lose some," Shelley said.

"When did this happen, Aunt Shelley?" Julie asked. "I talked to you like two weeks ago."

"And I talked to you last week," Tami said.

"Well, it happened six days ago. It's fine. I'm totally fine with it." Shelley was looking over Tami's shoulder down the hall toward the living room. "Who's the hottie on the couch next to Eric? He looks like Gregory Peck, but with Richard Gere's Pretty-Woman-era hair and Sean Connery's beard."

"That's Eric's friend Chuck," Tami said, glancing with a smile at Sharon. "Come on in to the dining room and fill me in. Sharon, would you mind opening the wine? The red you brought?"

"Not at all," Sharon said.

Gracie came out of her room and joined the men in the living room. Julie came with Tami to the dining room. The table was already set with china and they each settled into a chair.

"What happened?" Tami asked her sister.

"Did he cheat?" Julie asked. "Because if he did I'll have Matt track him down and kick the crap out of him."

Shelley laughed. "Yeah, Matt's just the type to do that. He missed his calling as a bouncer when he went to art school."

Julie smiled. "He can be very assertive when he needs to be."

"Nicholas got a job offer to fly a private jet and wanted me to move to California with him. But I've built up my career in Dallas. We bought a great house in Coppell. I love my life in Texas. I'm finally really accomplishing something with this real estate thing, and I don't want to give it up. I don't know the market in California. I _know_ Dallas. And I know Texans. I asked him to turn down the job. He wouldn't. So…" She shrugged.

"You're not really okay with this, are you?" Tami asked.

"Well, I thought I meant more than a job to him. But whatever. He left me the house. Signed it completely over to me. We each put 15 percent down. He didn't ask for his 15 percent back. So I got something out of the deal. Of course, he took half my heart with him. That was kind of annoying. But it'll grow back."

"Sorry to interrupt," Sharon said. "But I think y'all need wine." She set down three glasses of red wine and said, "I'm just going to join the boys," before disappearing again.

When she was gone, Tami said, "Shelley, honey, I'm so sorry."

"I've decided not to wallow in my misery. It's Thanksgiving! And I'm going to be thankful. I'm making a boatload on commissions this year. I've got a lovely house of my own, and I get to spend Thanksgiving with my sister and my gorgeous nieces." She waved her wine glass toward the direction Sharon had departed. "And a couple of people I hardly know. But you guys always take in strays for Thanksgiving, don't you?"

"Someone has to," Tami said.

**[FNL]**

At the dinner table, after grace had been said and the turkey carved, the conversation began. Shelley kicked off with, "How much money do you make as a professor, Chuck?"

"Rude," Gracie said. "Even I know you don't ask people that."

"I'm only asking because a professor asked me out yesterday," Shelley clarified.

"And you want to know how much he makes before you accept?" Chuck asked.

"I want to know if I should offer to pay for dinner or let him pay."

"Where does he teach?" Chuck asked her.

"North Lake College."

"Never heard of it," Chuck said.

"It's a community college in Irving."

"Full-time?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, then, my salary wouldn't be relevant. I'm a tenured professor at a four-year university. He probably makes about $52,000 a year, if that helps you determine the distribution of the check. But Sharon lets me pay half the time even though I make less than her. Don't you, darling?"

Sharon smiled at him. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of the opportunity."

"I'd make more," Chuck said, "but for some reason my book on the parallels between the Meditations of Aurelius and Nietzsche isn't selling like hotcakes."

"You should write about Percy Jackson," Gracie said. "It's almost as pop-oo-lar as Harry Potter."

Tami smiled. She was glad there were still some words Gracie didn't pronounce precisely accurately. Sometimes she felt like she'd woken up to find her daughter _ten_ years older.

"Maybe I will," Chuck said. "Maybe I'll write a book called _If_ _Nietzsche Ran Camp Half Blood_."

"You know Percy Jackson?" Gracie asked.

"I have nieces and nephews," Chuck told her.

"Why don't you have kids?" Gracie asked. "You're old enough to be a dad."

"Gracie - " Tami scolded, but before she could finish, Chuck answered, "Because I'm not married."

"Why aren't you married?" Gracie asked.

"Speaking of rudeness..." Shelley said.

Gracie was not daunted. "Have you _ever_ been married?"

"Gracie!" Eric scolded.

"No," Chuck answered, "never have."

"Why?"

"Gracie!" Tami scolded.

"I suppose because I'm not a good catch. It usually takes two months for a woman to figure that out. Luckily for me, Ms. Sharon here is rather slow-witted. I might last four." He winked at Sharon and she shook her head and smiled.

"Slow-witted means dumb. That's not a very nice thing to say," Gracie said.

"He was joking," Sharon told her. "He can't beat me in a logical argument and he knows it."

"Logic will get you from A to B, Sharon, darling," Chuck said. "Imagination will take you everywhere."

"Who said that?" she asked.

"How do you know _I_ didn't say it?"

"Who said it, Charles?"

He sighed. "Albert Einstein."

"He's a scientist," Julie said. "You don't teach him in philosophy, do you?"

"There's philosophy in everything, Ms. Taylor."

"Do you have any philosophical quotes for bad break-ups?" Shelley asked.

In a very serious voice, Chuck intoned, "You go talk to your friends. Talk to my friends. Talk to me.  
>But we are never, ever, ever, ever getting back together."<p>

Shelley threw back her head and laughed, which gave the rest of the table permission to laugh. "I like this friend of yours even better than Buddy Garrity," Shelley told Eric.

Eric and Tami glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**[December]**

The Saints made it to the Division II National Championship for the first time in their history, but they lost the game. Two days after the disappointment, the Taylors flew to Chicago to watch their daughter enter the next chapter of her life.

Eric looked handsome as he walked Julie down the aisle of the small, old-fashioned Methodist church. Tami cried throughout the wedding, while Eric fought not to. At the reception, he delivered a well thought out toast that he'd fretted over almost as much as a game plan. The reception was being held in the art gallery where Matt worked. The paintings had all been roped off and some of the sculptures had been moved to the sides to make way for tables. The guests numbered no more than fifty, so things were not as tight as they could have been. It was an unusual reception setting, Tami thought, but a fitting one for the couple. Tami got to catch up with some of her old students. Tim and Jason were in attendance, as were Tyra and Lyla. Landry had played best man, but the other groomsmen Tami had never before met.

Eric danced with his daughter and came away from the floor with a light wetness in his eyes. Tami wrapped and arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. "She's in good hands," she whispered, though her eyes were growing moist again too.

"I know," Eric said. Some time later her stepped aside and took her hand. "May I dance with _my_ bride?"

Tami smiled. "You may."

He led her out to the makeshift dance floor and nodded at Matt, who was dancing with his grandmother. Grandma Saracen was slipping mentally, more so than she had been before Tami went into the coma, but she was still in fairly decent physical health, and she seemed to be aware of what was happening today. Meanwhile, Julie was making the rounds through the tables.

Tami rested her cheek against the smooth cheek of her husband as he led her gracefully. "You know what I've been thinking today?" she asked.

"Not about becoming a grandmother, I hope," he said.

"Lord, no. I'm not ready for that anytime soon." She pulled away to search his eyes. "I was thinking maybe we should renew our wedding vows sometime. You know, we've been married a long time, and we had a kind of separation. Not a voluntary one, but one anyway. A lot of people renew vows after something like that. I just think it would be…I don't know…" She shook her head.

"Reasurring?"

"Yes," she admitted. "No. I mean, I know you love me and that our marriage is for life, it's just, I…I guess I'm being silly."

He stopped dancing, dropped to one knee, and looked up at her. "Mrs. Taylor, will you marry me?"

They drew a few glances, and she giggled and covered her mouth and ordered him to get up. She jerked him close and he began leading her in dance again. Her cheek pressed to his, she whispered, "Yes."

"Do I have to get you another ring?"

"No," she said, "but you might have to take me on another honeymoon."

"Well, Mrs. Taylor, if we have even half as much sex as we did on our first honeymoon, it'll be well worth the trip."

She kissed the corner of his mouth. "Not right away," she whispered. "Not until you're done with spring training, but before summer training…when it won't detract from Matt and Julie's wedding or their first anniversary."

"On our anniversary, then?"

"I like that," Tami said, and smiled over her shoulder at Matt, who was grinning over his grandma's shoulder at his new bride, who sat at a table chatting with Tyra, their youthful faces full of happiness and future hopes.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**[January]**

"This woman is driving me crazy," Chuck said.

He and Eric were at the Drunken Dwarf again. It was only four blocks from Eric's office and two blocks from Chuck's, and Eric had met him for lunch. Now that football season was over, and the spring semester had begun (with a light sprinkling of snow that had melted by noon) he could afford longer lunch breaks.

"Oh yeah?" Eric muttered before he took a big bite of his Reuben.

"I'm getting mixed signals. We'll be…we're being _friendly_, and Sharon seems quite interested in being _friendly_, as if she's _really_ enjoying it, and then she'll just suddenly shut it down. I feel like a teenager all over again. Creeping from first to second base, getting halfway to third and then having to run back to second to stay safe."

Eric washed his Reuben down with the rest of his beer but did not respond.

"If football's the best sport, as you claim," Chuck asked, "then why are all of the sexual metaphors baseball related? Because there is nothing in this world better than sex."

"Except love."

Chuck smiled. "Don't get philosophical on me, Eric. Not you."

Eric wiped his hands on a napkin. "Football would be a better metaphor though. It's more versatile. You've got the pass attempt, pass deflected, the false start, the fumble, the incomplete pass, the _touchback_, the touchdown pass, the neutral zone, the _end_ zone, the spread formation, and, my wife's particular favorite, _go for two_. "

"Well Sharon's very good at blocking. She won't let me past the 30-yard line."

Eric shrugged.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong."

"Why don't you ask her instead of me?"

"What I'm doing wrong?" Chuck asked with a semi-raised voice. "How would I phrase that question exactly? Sharon, I'd truly love to take you to bed. Might you give me some pointers on how I might succeed in that endeavor?"

Eric couldn't believe Sharon still hadn't told Chuck about her views regarding sex outside of marriage. If she hadn't, it certainly wasn't his place to say it. So he said, "Maybe you're going too fast for her."

"Too fast? We've been dating nearly three months. We do something together two, three times a week. I _must_ be doing something wrong."

Eric ventured, "Maybe you should ask her about her philosophical views on sex."

"Her philosophical views?"

"Yeah," Eric said. "That would be a legitimate question for a philosophy professor to ask, wouldn't it? It wouldn't seem like you were just trying to get laid."

"Well, I'm _not_ _**just**_ trying to get laid. I'm also trying not to mess this up."

That was not something Eric had heard Chuck say before. He knew, of course, that Chuck was capable of having a long-term relationship; he'd just come off of one when they met, after all, and not by choice. But Eric thought that perhaps Chuck had been seeing ordinary women, and seeing them casually, to avoid another heartbreak.

Coach Taylor did not think this in a particularly conscious way, but he knew it at a gut level. He knew that throwing an extraordinary woman like Sharon in Chuck's path was a bit of a gamble, like giving your second string quarterback the starting role. You hoped for the best, but you also braced yourself for the possibility of failure, the possibility that you would disappoint both your player and yourself. Only this was even more of a gamble, because Eric was friends with Sharon too, on some level, and Tami was now very good friends with her.

"How much do you like Sharon?" Eric asked.

"Frankly, I'm a little bit smitten at this point. Perhaps…quite possibly…more than a little bit."

Eric chuckled.

Chuck frowned. "You're very amused by my frustration, aren't you?"

"Quite possibly a little bit."

Chuck crossed his arms over his chest and promptly changed the subject. "How's Tami?"

"A'ight. But you know that new job she started?"

Chuck nodded.

"Well, she's already stirring up trouble."

"It's only been two weeks," Chuck noted.

Eric grinned. "I know. That's Tami for you." His lips morphed into a frown. "She has these…ideals. I hope they don't get crushed…again."

"Well, you'll be there is they do," Chuck said, and pulled his pint glass a little closer. "That's the kind of marriage you two have."

Eric took this as an opportunity. "We're renewing our vows in June, on our anniversary. We're thinking of doing it in College Station, at the campus chapel where we got married. The campus minister who married us is still alive." He laughed. "Actually, he's only fifty-seven. He seemed a hell of lot older than me back then."

"It's odd, isn't it, that so many of our one-time superiors have become our peers?"

Eric nodded. "Anyway, Tami wants to do it there, even though we don't really know anyone around there anymore. The guy who was my best man – he was on the Aggies with me – I haven't really talked to him in fifteen years. Nothing personal. We just…lost touch."

"It happens," Chuck said, and sipped his beer.

"So..um…I wondered if…you'd mind?"

"Mind what?"

Eric scratched the back of his head. He found this an oddly uncomfortable question to ask. "Being my best man? For the ceremony? The renewal?"

Chuck set his glass down and laughed. "Mind? Why would I mind? I'd be honored, naturally."

"A'ight. Good. Thanks."

"Did you doubt I would?"

"I thought you might think it was a weird request."

"This is what friends do, Eric, yes?"

"Julie's going to be matron of honor," Eric said, ignoring his question. "And Sharon's going to be a bridesmaid. Matt's going to be my other groomsman. Gracie'll be flower girl. That's it. It's not going to be a big thing. We're only inviting about fifty people. Just something small…in the chapel…with a cake and punch reception after. We're not sure where. I guess we'll have to rent out part of a building or something."

"Oh, you need booze," Chuck said. "You can't celebrate twenty-one? Twenty-two? years and recommit yourselves to one another without booze afterward."

"Well, they might not allow it if we rent – "

"- I've got a brother in Bryan, Texas. Ten mile drive, tops, from A&M. He's got a gorgeous ranch house, parts of it are fantastic for entertaining. I'll ask him to let you use it. I'm sure he'll be fine with it. You can have it there."

"I…uh…."

"Well, ask Tami what she thinks, of course. Actually, I'll send her pictures of his place. Or I'll send them to Sharon to show to her. That'll be best. Is Shelley coming?"

"Shelley? Why do you care?" Shelley was the type of woman Chuck might have taken up to his apartment six months ago. He didn't like Chuck's question.

"She had that bad breakup."

"So? What's that go to do with you?" Eric put a hand around his empty pint glass and tightened his grip.

"Me? Nothing. I'm in a relationship. But my brother's not. His wife died ten years ago. Deadly serious guy. We're quite the opposites. He doesn't know how to have a good laugh."

"And you think Shelley would be…what?"

"Someone who could lighten him up. For an afternoon at least. Maybe more."

Eric shook his head.

"She's got a lot going upstairs, you know."

"Shelley?" Eric let go of his pint glass. "We're talking about my _sister-in-law_ Shelley here? Are we talking about the same person?"

"I didn't say it was all going about in an orderly manner, but it's going. You don't achieve the success she's achieved in real estate in a few short years by being an idiot. And she's your wife's sister. There are some shared genes there. I can tell she annoys you to distraction, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't be good for somebody. I talked to her a bit at Thanksgiving. She kind of cornered me."

"That's what I'm talking about. She – "

"- Yes, well, maybe she's ready to settle, and maybe my brother's ready to finally let loose a little. Can't hurt to try."

"So what are you, a matchmaker now?" Eric asked.

"Why? Because matchmaking isn't manly? Don't tell me you weren't trying to set me and Sharon up."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Eric motioned to the waiter for the check. "I just wanted to have a BBQ with both my friends."

The waiter put down the check. Eric and Chuck grabbed it at the same time. Chuck relented. "You're the manly one after all," he said. "No reason you shouldn't win a tug of war."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**[February]**

Eric came out of Gracie's room after putting her to bed and sidled up behind Tami, who was washing the dishes they'd left in the sink earlier. He slid his arms around her waist, kissed her neck, and whispered, "Want to do a little dance?"

Her chuckle was low. "No thanks, sugar. I've got my girl's night out with Sharon tonight."

"On a _Wednesday_?"

"Well, sure, she goes out on Fridays and Saturdays with Chuck. Why not Wednesday? I like Wednesday girl's night. Helps me get past hump day."

"Yeah, any excuse to get out of hump day, huh?" he asked, sliding his arms away.

"Good Lord, Eric." She turned around and kissed his cheek. "You get humped more than one day a week. And do I ever hear a thank you?"

"Every time."

"Oh, that's right, I do actually." She kissed his lips this time. "Will you finish these dishes for me, sugar?"

**[FNL]**

It was more like girl's night in. They shared some wine at Sharon's house, which was fine with her. Any night away from domestic responsibilities was a night "out," as far as Tami was concerned, and drinking at home was much cheaper than going to a bar. Besides, if Tami got a little tipsy, she wouldn't have to worry about taking a cab home and coming back for her car. She could just walk. But tipsy was as far as she was going to go tonight; no more hangovers. Besides, she had to work tomorrow.

Tami felt as if she was already making connections in her new counseling position, but the administration was a pain. She'd seen the biggest challenge for the kids was a misuse of technology – there were some issues with both bullying and sexting – and she'd wanted to hold an assembly to address the issue, but the principal had said they couldn't take any time out of preparing for the state test.

"So what did you do when they told you that?" Sharon asked her as she poured her a glass of wine and they both settled on the living room couches.

"I went ahead and organized an assembly anyway, but for after school. Got a guest speaker. Reserved the theater. Made up flyers and posted them all around the school. And Principal McIntosh said I had _usurped_ her authority."

"Female bosses are the worst," Sharon said.

Tami laughed. "You're a female boss."

"I know. And I'm incredibly hard assed. But I would never punish initiative. That's absurd. _You_ should be principal of that school."

Tami smiled behind the rim of her wine glass. "Maybe I will be one day."

"Yeah, Eric said you had a way of skipping rungs on the employment ladder." Sharon shook her head. "He talked about you constantly, you know. I mean, he was a decent friend to me, played my sounding board through the divorce, but I think the only reason he wanted to hang out with me in the first place was so that he'd have someone to listen to him talk about you."

"It was kind of you to do that for him," Tami said.

"I felt bad for him. And I figured it was good that I felt bad for him, because compassion has not always been one of my finer virtues. I guess that gets dulled when you're raised by a whore only to become a lawyer. But you've got a really strong sense of it, Tami. Did you grow up with a psychologist for a mother?"

Tami snickered. "Lord, no. I didn't learn compassion from my _mother_. She was a hell fire and brimstone sort of woman, and the model of everything I didn't want to be. I learned it from my father. But he was kind of a push over, and I didn't want to be that way either. I guess I tried to take my mother's determination and combine it with my father's compassion. And I guess I tried to find a man with my father's heart but without his docility."

"And I guess you succeeded?" Sharon asked.

"I think so."

"What are y'all doing for Valentine's Day next week?"

Tami smiled. "I let Eric handle those plans. He always likes to surprise me. But it's not really a surprise, because he does the same thing every year. He gets someone to watch the kid – Julie in past years - and reserves a hotel room. He tells me to get in the car and doesn't tell me where we're going. When we get to the room, there's champagne, a dozen roses, and chocolate covered strawberries. He does it every year for Valentine's day, although one year he did it for my birthday instead. I always pretend to be surprised."

"Well that's an adorably sweet gesture. You can't knock champagne and chocolate covered strawberries."

"I know. That's why I always pretend to be surprised. I don't want him to stop doing it. How about you and Chuck? Do y'all have plans?"

"He asked me to go to a bed and breakfast with him on the river walk in San Antonio and stay for the weekend."

Tami raised an eyebrow. A man did not invite you for a weekend at a bed and breakfast if he did not expect sex. "What did you say?"

"I said I'd go."

"And you think you're going to be able to subtly put him off all weekend?"

"I'm thinking of just going ahead and having sex with him."

Tami quickly swallowed down the wine she'd just sipped. "What about your beliefs?"

"They aren't _religious_ beliefs."

"Does it matter? You said it's always been important to you. You've never had sex with _anyone_ but Mark."

Sharon shrugged. "I know. But I really like Charles, and I don't know how long he'll keep just dating me like this. Besides, I _want_ to. Physically, I mean. Even if I'm not exactly mentally sure."

"You still haven't told him how you feel about that?"

Sharon shook her head. "He asked me a couple of weeks ago what my _philosophy_ of sex was. Right out of nowhere. I thought of telling him then – telling him everything – about my childhood and all of it. But I only said I don't take it lightly."

"And what did he say?"

"He just said _Ah_ and seemed to be thinking, and then I changed the topic."

"Sharon, you should never have sex with a man just to keep him."

"Is that what you told Julie?"

"I know you're not my daughter , Sharon. You're my friend. And I'm worried about you rushing into something." It would be rushing for Sharon, anyway.

"Well, I suspect he's not bad in bed."

Tami leaned forward. "Are you going to regret it later? If you're not _sure_ the answer to that is _no_ – "

"- I think I might love him, Tami. I haven't felt this attracted to a man since Mark, but I'm also much more intellectually compatible with Charles than I ever was with Mark."

Tami settled back into the loveseat. "I really think you should at least _talk_ to him first. Let him know how you feel – or used to feel – about sex outside of marriage. Because if you talk to him first, and he has a more specific idea of how very important it is to you, I think you'll be less likely to regret it later."

Sharon asked, "Was it easy for _you_ to talk about this sort of thing with Eric when you'd barely been dating four months?"

"Not easy, no. But we _did_ talk about it before we did it the first time. And sometimes even now it's not always easy to say the things we need to say to each other. But we say them."

Sharon stood. "More wine? I know I need more wine."

As Sharon poured, Tami said, "Whatever you decided to do, Sharon, just be true to yourself."

**[FNL]**

Tami slid into bed and pressed herself against Eric's back. She kissed his ear and he grunted.  
>"Want to do a little dance?" she asked.<p>

He rolled over and opened his eyes slowly. "How much did you drink?"

"Only two glasses. I have work tomorrow." She rubbed his nose with her nose. "Want to? A slow, sexy dance?"

"Nah," he said. "I'm tired, and it's midnight, and hump day has officially concluded." He rolled over onto his side again, his back to her.

She lay on her back and asked the ceiling fan above, "Did that just happen?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

**[Valentine's Day]**

"This stuff can follow you for the rest of your life, Tanya," Tami told the teenage girl who, smacking her gum loudly, sat in the chair across from her. She'd called Tanya into her office after school, just as the girl was leaving dance team practice. "The Internet is a permanent record," Tami continued. "When you do foolish things like this, and you post them for everyone to see…it's not like when I was growing up, and if we made mistakes, no one could prove it a year later."

"In the bronze age?" the girl asked, leaving her mouth half open.

Tami winced at the sight of the gum, just lying there. She would correct the girl's manners, but there were bigger issues at hand, and she had to take baby steps with these kids. You had to meet people where they were. "Someone has already snatched that picture from your Facebook page and is passing it all around the school. With commentary. Don't you care about that?"

Tanya shrugged.

"You should. It may seem like nothing now, but one day you're going to want to apply for a job. Maybe even go to college."

"People in my family don't go to college."

"Your grades aren't that bad – all Bs and Cs, even without much effort. You did passably on your PSAT. If you actually studied for the SATs, you might do well. You're not stupid."

"You just said I was foolish."

Tami sighed. "I said you did a foolish thing. And you did. Even smart people do stupid things sometimes."

Tanya glanced at the clock. "Can I go now? The late bus comes in five minutes and there's some man waiting for you outside anyway."

"Who?"

"How would I know? He's sort of hot for an old guy though."

She waved Tanya out of her office and Eric slipped through the door and lay a single red rose on her desk. "The orchestra was selling them at a table out front," he said.

"I know. I bought a bunch today for other people."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What other people?"

She stood and came around the desk to kiss him. "Friends. Co-workers." She smirked. "And that one hot janitor."

He grunted. "You ready to go?"

"Go where?" she asked, even though she knew full well he'd be taking her to a hotel.

"It's a surprise."

They'd been driving for thirty minutes when she finally asked, "How far are we going?"

"There's no place really nice to stay in San Angelo," he said. "Not that I'm saying we're staying anywhere. It's a surprise."

"Who's got Gracie?"

"I left her a box of cereal and a key."

Tami lowered her sun glasses and looked at him. "Who has her?" It couldn't be Chuck or Sharon, as they were headed to San Antonio. It couldn't be Carolyn, as she would be spending Valentine's Day with Damien.

"Your sister came down. Y'all can have your girl time Sunday night when we get back."

"We get _two days_ together?" Now that much at least was a surprise. She'd been expecting only an overnight. "Did you pack my bag?" she asked with a hint of concern.

"Shelley packed it."

That could actually be worse.

An hour later, she asked, "Seriously, how far are we going? I'm hungry."

"Good, because we're stopping for dinner." He pulled off the highway into the historic downtown area of an small town and parked in front of a place called _The Wine Table_. It was a surprisingly fancy find for such a little town. He'd clearly researched the path ahead of time.

They ordered a bottle of wine, enjoyed their filets, and talked.

"I'm just worried about Sharon," Tami said, after explaining their conversation of a few days ago.

"She's a grown woman, Tami. What's the worst that could possibly happen? She has sex with a guy who's in love with her?"

"Do you think Chuck _is_ in love with her?"

"I'm fairly sure of it." He poured her the last glass of wine in the bottle.

"Are you trying to get me buzzed before we get to the hotel?"

"How do you know we're going to a hotel? Maybe I'm taking you camping."

She laughed. They drove yet another hour, and the sun set in hues of orange and red against the highway. She read the signs as they travelled and eventually asked, "Are we going to _Austin_?"

"You say we hardly ever visit the city."

It was true. They rarely did. _The city_ to Tami meant Dallas, Austin, Houston, or San Antonio. San Angelo, where they lived, didn't count as a "real city" to her.

She smiled. "Are we going to that bar to see the dueling pianos?"

He glanced at her. "That's your idea of romance?"

"I love dueling pianos."

"A'ight. Tomorrow night then. Tonight I thought, maybe…we'd just stay in." He grinned.

When they checked in to the luxury downtown hotel, Tami gasped in feigned surprise at the champagne and chocolate covered strawberries that were in the room. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him and thanked him.

As they kissed, his lips grew hungrier on hers. He backed her into the bed, and they tumbled down together. He tugged her shirt out of her skirt.

"Why such a hurry?" she asked.

"I've been thinking about this all day, babe. At work. All through dinner. The whole drive."

The truth was, she had been too. Not _all_ day. She'd been preoccupied with her students. But she _had_ been thinking about it most of the drive, stealing glances at him in the car, noticing the way his dark green button-down shirt set off his eyes, the way it pulled across his muscular shoulders, and thinking of the feel of his lips on her bare skin. She reached for his belt and unbuckled it before tugging it from the loops with a loud swish. "Next time we do it very slowly," she told him.

His hand was under her skirt now, tugging down her panties, while his breath fell hot on her ear. "Yes, ma'am."

**[FNL]**

"You have to finish the bottle," Tami told him, giggling. "I had three glasses of wine at that restaurant. I can't have more than two glasses of champagne."

"A'ight," he said. "I'm not driving anymore." He held out his glass. She reached for the bottle on the end table next to the bed. As she reached over to pour for him, the sheet that was tucked around her breasts slipped down. He was smiling and clearly enjoying the view when she put the bottle back and raised the sheet to cover herself again.

"Hey, that's completely unnecessary," he complained.

"This is the time when we drink and talk," she said, fluffing the pillow behind her back and resting against the headboard again.

"Because we didn't talk for hours on the drive and over dinner? I thought this was the time when we made slow," he lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper, "slow, slow, intense love." He kissed her ear.

She laughed. "You're not ready for that. You're on your third glass of champagne. Let's do that in the morning. After we try out that Jacuzzi tub."

He sighed, but it seemed more of a mock sigh. She could tell he was tired and didn't really have it in him in the moment, not after driving for so long, and drinking, and having had one wild romp already. He took a big sip of his champagne. Her empty glass now on the night stand, she settled her head against his shoulder. He shifted her slightly when he wrapped an arm around her, and she repositioned herself against his bare, muscular flesh.

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Tami Taylor."

"I love you, too."

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"Thank you. This was perfect. How are you going to top it for our second honeymoon in June?"

"Well, that's going to be five days. Shelley's already agreed to watch Gracie. I kind of forgot she was going to be a bridesmaid too. I guess I need a third guy, besides Matt and Chuck, if you're having Julie, Shelley, and Sharon."

"Yep."

"I don't have a third guy. I guess I could ask Buddy."

Tami winced. "Oh, Eric, I don't know…"

"Who else?"

"One of your assistant coaches? Aren't you friends with any of them?"

"Not close enough that I feel comfortable asking them to do something like that." He smirked down at her. "I could ask Glen. Glen would love to be a part of you renewing your vows to me, don't you think?"

She smacked him lightly on the chest. "Behave."

He set his glass down on the night stand, half turned, and kissed her neck while letting one hand slide beneath the sheet to cup a breast. "You sure you _want_ me to?"

**[FNL]**

The next morning they slept in, ordered a room service breakfast, and then spent half an hour in the tub together before making their way back to the bed. Tami was relieved to find Shelley had packed her some decent clothes, although her sister had also inserted a couple of pieces of lingerie Tami did not recall ever having bought for herself.

It was one before they spilled out onto the streets of Austin. Eric showed her the sights. She'd half forgotten he might know his way around the city, having lived here for months by himself while she was pregnant and Gracie was a newborn. What a foolish idea that had been on her part.

He took her to the art museum, and then they toured old houses, because he knew she liked walking through those distinguished, southern relics of an antebellum south. But after the second house, she could tell he was terribly bored.

"We haven't had lunch," she said, "and it's almost dinner time." They kept it casual this evening, enjoying some hole-in-the-wall barbecue, which was clearly good enough to have a line out front. Afterward, they went to 6th street, and Eric asked if they could stop in at Bourbon Girl before they went to the piano bar. "They only have frilly drinks at that piano show, and they're way overpriced. I'm not getting more than the required minimum."

"Bourbon Girl?" she asked. "That isn't one of those bars where the waitresses wear really tight shirts with their breast bursting out of them, is it?"

"What? No." He paused. "I don't think so anyway. I only went there two or three times, during the week, after practice, with some of the other TMU coaches. I didn't notice the waitresses."

"Sure you didn't."

"I didn't. I'm not even sure they have waitresses. It's just a bourbon bar."

When they stepped inside, there was indeed one waitress nearly busting out of her shirt, and when Tami raised an eyebrow at him, Eric winced and shrugged. But the bartender wasn't at all bad looking himself, so Tami let it slide. "Let's sit at the bar," she said.

At the moment, it was a lot less crowded than the other bars along 6th street, and not many college kids were inside. The clientele was somewhat older. She guessed that was probably why Eric had chosen it. He'd already frowned a lot this evening, as they made their way down the street, and he had commented more than once, "We're too old for this."

"You actually have Pappy?" Eric asked the bartender. "I'll take that."

"No you won't," Tami said, looking at the menu of shot prices. "That's absurdly expensive! For a shot?"

"Oh, so the luxury hotel, the champagne, the strawberries, the wine, the steak…none of that bothers you, but I order a bourbon I can't find hardly anywhere, and it's a no?"

She stroked his cheek in a gesture of appeasement. "Fine, sugar. You can have your bourbon. Happy belated Valentine's Day. Although I think I gave you a pretty good gift last night and this morning."

He smiled when the bartender pushed him the drink. "Chuck's going to be so jealous," he said before he began to sip.

"For you?" The bartender asked Tami, resting his palms against the bar and smiling at her.

She smiled back. "Nothing, thanks. I'm going to drink expensive frilly drinks over at the piano bar later."

The bartender laughed, stepped aside, and left them to themselves.

Eric finished off his bourbon. He slid an arm around her waist, leaned in, and kissed her cheek. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

She smiled.

"You're the best friend and wife a man could ask for. Beautiful, classy, smart, compassionate, an excellent mother to our children…every day I thank God for you, Tami."

Tami signaled the bartender. "Get him another one of those Pappy Van Winkles."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Coach Taylor turned the football in his hand and leaned back in his office chair. "You talk to Vince?" he asked Jess, who was in the chair opposite him.

"Coach Taylor, there's no way he's leaving a Division I school for a Division II school."

Eric nodded. "How is he though?"

"He's good. He sounded really good. We're meeting up over spring break."

Eric tossed the football in the air and caught it coming down. "It might be easier in person to persuade him that - "

"- It's not happening, Coach. There's no way he's leaving the Aggies for the Saints. Would _you_ have?"

"I might have, for the right coach."

"You're good, Coach, but you're not _that_ good."

Eric smiled slightly.

"Is this even allowed?" Jess asked. "Without a permission to contact – "

"- Is your old high school boyfriend allowed to contact you? I certainly think so. You're just talking about life and football. You're not putting any offers on the table." Eric put the football down on his desk.

Jess shook her head and changed the topic. "I can't wait for spring training," she said. "I'm finally going to get to see some action around here." She grabbed her clipboard containing some notes and rough play diagrams they'd been discussing and said, "I have to get to class."

Eric looked over her shoulder at his punter, who was pacing in the hallway. "What's Wilson doing hovering around out there?"

"Oh, he's waiting for me. We're going to lunch."

"So you don't need to get to class," he said. "You need to get to lunch."

"Well, I've got class right after lunch."

Coach Taylor shifted his Saints' cap on his head and leveled his eyes at her. "You understand, Jess, that you can't be dating anyone on this team? Not if you're going to be working for me."

"What? Why? I dated Vince while – "

"- You were in high school. And you were the equipment manager. You weren't an assistant coach. Coaches don't date players."

Jess smiled. "I'm not an assistant coach _now_, either. I'm just a college assistant."

Eric crossed his arms on the desk and leaned forward. "Technically, yes. But I'm _training_ you to be a coach."

"I'm sorry," Jess said, "I didn't think it would be…" She glanced over her shoulder at Wilson and then turned back. "Really? I mean, we're both in college. I'm not his _employer_."

Eric scratched his head. "A'ight. Truth is I just don't think that kid is good enough for you. I had some problems with him last year. He didn't do enough to get kicked off the team, but let's just say he's not good enough for you."

"I think I'm a pretty good judge of character, Coach. If that's true, I'm sure I'll figure it out on my own." She stood, and behind her, Eric could see not only Wilson, but Chuck.

"Send Dr. Thompson in when you go out, will you?" Eric told her.

Chuck made his way into the office and looked around. "You know I've never been here before? It's surprisingly well ordered. "

"What can I do you for?" Eric asked as Jess slipped out the door and shut it behind herself. He watched her talking and walking off with Wilson. "I'm working, you know."

Chuck picked up a plaque Eric hadn't had a chance to hang on the wall yet – rather, hadn't _bothered_ to hang on the wall yet – and looked it over. "You have to have lunch at some point though, right?" Chuck glanced over the plaque and then put it back down. "So lunch with me."

Eric removed his cap and ran a hand through his hair. Lunch with Chuck could sometimes stretch two hours. "Okay, but no more than forty minutes max. We go someplace close."

**[FNL]**

They settled into a corner booth at a deli that was not yet crowded because it was barely eleven.

"Tami wouldn't like you drinking that sweet tea," Chuck said, motioning to the large styroafoam cup in front of Eric. "Aren't you pre-diabetic?"

"No, I'm not pre-diabetic. My cholesterol's high, that's all. And my blood pressure, a little bit. But that's just because of my job. And what are you, my mother?" Eric slurped from the cup.

"You're in a mood today."

"Because I've had to accept I'm not going to be able to recruit someone I want to recruit."

"It's hard not being able to have something you really want, isn't it?" Chuck asked.

Eric unwrapped his steak and cheese sub. "Are you going to talk about Sharon now?"

"Yes, I am."

Eric winced. "I don't want to talk about your love life."

"Well if you expect me to be your best man at your renewal in June, I expect you to listen to me talk about my love life. Maybe even offer a bit of advice."

Eric took a bite of his steak and cheese and muttered, "I'm out of advice."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, honey." Chuck popped open his bag of chips. He hadn't bought a sandwich – just chips and a Diet Coke. "So I took her to San Antonio for Valentine's Day weekend. How did your weekend go, by the way?"

"Great. Tami was really surprised. Lots of sex. You want the details? So you can live vicariously through me for a change?"

Chuck laughed. "Anyway, two weeks ago I attempted that philosophy of sex conversation you suggested. All Sharon would say was that she didn't take it lightly, and suddenly we were talking about ancient Greek law and whether it was built on Greek philosophy. But I figure, okay, sex is a serious deal to her, I'll make it a serious thing. Invite her to a charming B&B on the River Walk, couple hours of conversation over a fancy dinner, an entire romantic event, if you will. So I invite her and she says she'll go, so I figure that means…you know."

"Mhmm." Eric took another bite of his sub.

"So everything's proceeding swimmingly. We have a lovely dinner, great conversation, a romantic stroll along the River Walk back to the B&B, we're in the room, we're making out something fierce, and she pulls away and says, 'I need to tell you something about myself that you don't know.'"

Eric took apart his sandwich and examined it so he wouldn't appear to know what Chuck was about to say. Apparently Sharon had _finally_ told him she didn't believe in sex outside of marriage.

"Did you know this about her?" Chuck asked.

"Know what?" Eric asked innocently.

"You knew. You knew and you didn't tell me."

Eric smiled slightly.

"You could have told me her mother was a prostitute."

Eric set down his sandwich and stared at Chuck.

"Good God, Eric, I mean, I made a light joke one time about the oldest profession…really must have stepped in it without even knowing it. You could have given me a head's up."

"I…I had no idea. I assumed her mother was a professional - I mean a lawyer or doctor of some kind."

"Well she wasn't. Sharon told me her whole childhood story, and it was pretty awful. Her mother had men in and out of their trailer, sometimes while she was at home. And I guess as a consequence, she's really averse to sex outside of the venue of an extremely serious commitment. So, on the one hand, I'm disappointed the weekend didn't go precisely where I hoped it would. On the other hand, I'm glad to know it isn't just me."

Eric wiped his hands on a napkin not because they were dirty, but because he didn't know what to say.

"I don't know what to do, Eric. I'm in love with this woman and I can't stand not having sex with her."

"Well, you don't get to make that call. She does."

"I know. So what do I do?"

Eric ran his tongue inside his mouth and took another sip of his ice tea. "Well, you either break up with her, which, if you ask me, is a pretty stupid thing to do when you're in love with someone, or you keep on dating her without the sex. Those are your choices. Which one do you like best?"

"Easy for you to say. Tami had sex with you when you were dating. How long do you think you would have held up if she hadn't?"

"I just held up eighteen months without so much as a kiss."

"That's different. You weren't dating. You'd already been married. For _years_."

"Or you could ask her to marry you," Eric said. "That's your third choice."

"How am I supposed to know if we have sexual chemistry?"

"Seems like you're pretty damn attracted to each other."

"That's not what I mean. I mean, you don't buy a car without test driving it first."

"A wife isn't a car, Chuck. You don't buy her and use her for a few years and then trade her in on a newer model."

"I wasn't suggesting anything like that, and you damn well know it. But the sex part of a relationship, it's extremely important, and how do we know if we're compatible that way if we don't…" Chuck shook his head. "Would you have married Tami without knowing that?"

"Probably. How bad can sex with someone you love and are attracted to _possibly_ be? And what if you had sex with her tomorrow, and it wasn't quite as good as you expected? What would you do then? Dump her? Even though you love her and you love spending time with her? Or would you find ways to make it better?"

Chuck drummed his fingers on the table top. He swallowed and looked off at the menu posted over the deli bar. "I've asked two women to marry me in my life. The first was my high school sweetheart. Dated her all through sophomore, junior, and senior year. Thought my proposal was a shoe-in. But she said no, we were too young, and we should really see other people in college anyway." Eric hadn't known about that. Chuck had never mentioned anything about his pre-college years to him. "The second was…you know…she who shall remain nameless." Eric knew about that woman, the one whose rejection had sent Chuck to the sports bar where they met. "She said yes and then broke it off," Chuck continued. "And why? What did I do? I did nothing wrong. I didn't cheat. I didn't…" He shook his head. "I don't know why I'm not marriage material. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Eric rubbed his forehead and his Saints' cap lifted slightly. "There's nothing at all wrong with you, Chuck. They just weren't the right ones."

"Do you think there's only _one_ right person for every person?"

"No, not really," Eric said. "But some are more right than others."

"Do you think you could have made a go of it with someone other than Tami?"

"I probably could have married someone else and stayed married to her. I mean, I'm loyal and not all that complicated and I wanted that traditional life. I doubt any woman could _suit_ me as well as Tami though. I doubt I could have been half the man I am without her."

"How did you know she was going to be that woman for you, though, when you proposed?"

"I didn't. I just loved her. And it seemed practical to get married in college so we could save money."

"So you took a gamble and you lucked out?" Chuck asked.

"Yes and no. I had an instinct, like I do sometimes when I'm calling plays. It's always a gamble, when you call an unexpected play, but sometimes I just have a _feeling_."

"And how often do those gut-feeling plays work?"

"Fifty percent of the time."

Chuck rolled down the top of his half eaten bag of chips. "So half the time they fail?"

"You don't win playing it safe." Eric drained the rest of his sweet tea. "I've got to get back to work." He stood and gathered his trash.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Eric's lips pressed against Tami's in slow, lazy kisses as they lay in bed together beneath the warmth of a heavy blanket. She could smell the heat seeping from the ceiling. Late February had brought the kind of cold that in Texas meant back porch fire pits and indoor snuggling.

His hand moved very slowly beneath the blanket from her shoulder to her hip, where it rested lightly as his kiss deepened and his tongue tangled deliciously with hers. Tami loved this kind of slow lovemaking the best of all, when he didn't ask directly to fool around, but just turned to her in the pitch black of night and pressed his forehead against hers, when he kissed her ever so gently to start, and they both pretended they were just saying goodnight, that neither of them knew where it was going to end. It would build from there, little by little, and still they would pretend they were just cuddling, that neither had any intention of taking matters all the way.

He now slid both his hands down to the very edge of her long night shirt and slipped beneath it to caress her upper legs and thighs.

She loved the familiar feel of his hands, hands that had held her hair while she vomited after a foolish night of drinking in high school, hands that had held hers as they stood before the altar, hands that had cradled their two newborn babies, hands that had explored her body through over twenty years of marriage.

Eric skimmed briefly over her panties with just enough of a touch to elicit a small gasp. His fingertips grazed her stomach as he moved up to her breasts. She murmured as he began to cup and fondle them gently.

Tami turned her head to take his earlobe gently between her teeth, and she felt him shiver as she bit down lightly. He ran a thumb lazily around her nipple. "I like that," she murmured.

"You do?" he asked quietly. "I like you." His lips sought hers.

She smiled against his mouth. When he said _I like you_, it meant more than when many men said _I love you_.

She could feel him hard against her thigh. She reached down and slowly pulled the drawstring of his sweatpants loose and slipped her hand inside.

"Oh, God, Tami. _Babe_."

They weren't pretending anymore. He slid her panties from beneath her night shirt and shimmied out of his sweats. He drew his t-shirt off over his head, and her hands sought the sinews of his chest. For a while more they kissed and caressed, until he finally joined with her in one seamless motion. "You're perfect," he murmured as he eased in.

She whispered his name like a plea as he began to move slowly atop her.

"_Perfect_, Tami."

She knew she wouldn't be perfect tomorrow morning, when her hair was a tangled mess and the sunlight revealed a face stripped of makeup, and he was rushing around looking for his keys, but she was perfect tonight.

"Perfect," he said again, his lips warm against her ear, his body hot against hers, his hands pinning her arms above her head as her breath grew thicker and their movements grew faster. "Absolutely perfect, babe."

**[*]**

"Where did you put my keys!" Eric shouted from the kitchen.

"I didn't put them anywhere, sugar," Tami announced as she walked through the dining room to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. "But you better find them fast because you have to get Gracie to school in the next fifteen minutes."

"Today's your day to take Gracie to school," he said, lifting the mail up off the counter to look under it. "Where are my damn keys? Are you sure you didn't take them last night? Are you sure they're not in your purse?"

"Why would I take your keys? And I told you I have an early meeting with the principal about holding a college fair. I can't take Gracie to school."

"I've got to meet with my coaches early too. Spring training starts next week."

It didn't feel like spring now, but by mid-March Tami knew it would be 70 degrees in the afternoon.

Eric lifted his Saint's cap from the counter and, as he did so, revealed the keys beneath. Tami cocked an eyebrow in his direction.

"Why did you put my keys under my cap?" he asked her. Then he laughed at himself.

"I really need you to take Gracie to school, hon."

He pushed his hat onto his head. "A'ight." He leaned in and kissed her. "Thank you for last night," he whispered.

[*]

Tami left before Eric and Gracie did. As she was unlocking her car in the driveway, she saw Chuck leaving Sharon's house two doors down. He was whistling. He waved in her direction as he unlocked his own car. His suit looked wrinkled, almost as if he'd slept in it. The top two buttons were undone, and his tie was hanging loose about his neck. Tami couldn't help but wonder what the story was there. Sharon had told her that she'd decided against sex on Valentine's weekend, but maybe she'd revised that decision.

"Morning, Tami!" Chuck hollered, and began walking towards her. "You always leave this early?" he asked when he was standing in the grassy strip before her driveway.

"I have a meeting with the administration this morning," she answered.

"I have morning office hours," he told her. "Not that anyone ever comes. But I use the time to grade papers."

"You don't have a T.A. to do that?"

"Essays. I don't trust a T.A. to do that."

She glanced over his suit. "You might want to run home and change first."

He looked down at the wrinkled mess. "Yeah." He smiled. "Fell asleep on Sharon's couch last night. She just left me there instead of waking me up and sending me home. I guess I'd had a bit too much to drink."

"Well," Tami said. "you don't look hungover at least."

"I rarely do. I'm what they call a functional alcoholic. Like you."

"I'm not an alcoholic, Chuck."

He laughed. "Okay then, if you say so." He waved to her and began to walk back to his car. "You have a lovely day."

"I'm not an alcoholic," she muttered as she started her car. "The nerve."

When she was halfway to work, she called Eric on her cell. She wasn't supposed to be on a cell phone while going through school zones. It was a $200 fine. But she did it anyway. "Do you think I'm an alcoholic, sugar?" she asked the moment he answered. She could hear him starting the engine of his truck, and then sports radio automatically clicking on and, in the background, Gracie singing some Taylor Swift song.

"What?"

"Do you think I'm some kind of a functional alcoholic?"

"Where is this question coming from?"

"Chuck said I was."

"Chuck? When did you talk to Chuck?" he asked. She could hear the bing bing bing of the no seatbelt signal.

"You need to put on your seatbelt, sugar."

"Well I've only got one hand at the moment because I'm talking to you and driving."

"Well don't drive with Gracie in the back seat and no seatbelt and one hand!"

"You called me, Tami."

"All right. Fine. I'm going to hang up now."

"A'ight." He chuckled. "Love you, babe."

When she hung up, she realized he'd never actually answered her question.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Eric walked in front of Chuck's open office door and saw that he was talking to a student, so he ducked to the side and leaned against the wall to wait. He glanced at his watch. The posted afternoon office hours were 3:00 PM to 4:30 PM, but it was already 4:45.

Finally, the cute young co-ed stepped out.

"Thanks, Dr. Thompson," she said. "That recommendation's totally going to help."

"Yes, well, try not to say _totally_ in your interview, though," Chuck told her.

She smiled and waved with her fingers and met up with another girl who had been waiting for her in the hallway. Eric heard the other girl say, "I love SAEU. There are so many hot professors."

"I know," the girl who had left Chuck's office said, "Dr. Thompson is a total Clooney. And what does that other cute guy teach?"

The voices faded down the hall. "Oh, he's the football coach."

Chuck invited Eric into his office. Eric followed him inside and sat in the chair the co-ed had vacated. When Chuck closed the door, Eric asked, "Did you know you were a total Clooney?"

"I did," Chuck said as he sat in his own chair.

"What the hell's a Clooney anyway?" Eric asked.

"The actor? George Clooney? I think he's at least five years older than me, but I guess I should take it as a compliment."

Eric glanced back at the now closed door. "Why do you keep that open when you're meeting with a student? Isn't it distracting, all the people in the halls?"

"Did you hear about that scandal? With the English professor?"

Eric shook his head.

"He was accused of molesting a girl in his office. I don't know if he did or not, but my door's always open from now on. You should do the same."

"I don't conference with any girls. Except Jess."

"Doesn't have to be girls."

Eric sighed. "Yeah, when the Sandusky scandal came out, it made me a lot more cautious of perceptions. You know, early in my career, when I was coaching junior high, I used to give boys rides home. It was a good time to get them to talk. I hate how much coaching and teaching has changed over the years. Not just that, but…you have to be cautious about a hundred other things now."

"Everyone's on edge all the time about something," Chuck agreed. "And the paperwork…and the hoops you have to jump through…it just keeps growing."

"Still," Eric said, "I can't change the way I do everything just because there's risk involved."

Chuck put his hand on his desk. "So what brings you to my humble lair? You never come to my office."

"I was nearby. Thought I'd pop in and ask you why you felt the need to tell my wife she's a drunk this morning. That day you helped her through her hangover, that's not a _norm_ for her, you know."

Chuck laughed. "I never said she was a drunk! I said _functional_ alcoholic. Functional is the operative word there. "

"I believe she thought _alcoholic_ was the…operative…word there. She called me. She sounded upset."

"I was just _teasing_ her, because I know she loves her wine."

"She _does_ love her wine," Eric agreed. "She seemed bothered by what you said though."

"I wasn't trying to offend her."

"I don't think she's offended. I just think she's bothered."

"I should think more carefully about my words before I speak to her, especially given that she doesn't much care for me."

"She likes you, Chuck. She does. Why do you think she was bothered by what you said? She wouldn't have been bothered if she _didn't_ like you."

Chuck drummed his fingers on the desk again. "Do I need to make a formal apology?"

"If you feel like it."

"Are you _asking_ me to make a formal apology?"

"I'm not asking you anything. I'm just telling you how I think it made her feel." Eric looked around at the diplomas on the wall. There was B.A. in Philosophy and Finance from the University of Indiana. Eric hadn't realized Chuck had double majored. Chuck never talked about finance, but he did seem to have plenty of disposable income. Eric always assumed it was because he was single and only had himself to provide for. He had an MSt (whatever that was) in Ancient Philosophy from the University of Oxford, and a Master's degree, in Metaphysics, from New York University. His Ph.D. in Philosophy was from the University of Texas at Austin. "You have a lot of degrees."

"Degrees come in handy when you want to be a professor."

"What is Metaphysics?"

"It deals with concepts such as being, knowing, substance, cause, identity, time, and space."

Eric shook his head. What did that mean? Hell, what _didn't_ deal with such concepts? "So does football."

Chuck laughed. "Yes, well, you're a philosopher on the field. Listen, I'm going to the Drunken Dwarf to watch my team play." By that, Chuck meant his college baseball team, the Hoosiers. "You want to join me for a drink?"

"Nah. I better go on home. We've got family dinner and then I've got to watch Gracie. Tami's got her girl's night _in_ with your girlfriend."

"Ah, yes, Wednesday nights." Chuck stood as Eric did. He smiled mischievously. "Tell Tami to have a drink for me."

**[*]**

"So…" Tami raised her glass of wine to her lips. She was only going to drink _one_ tonight, because she was fully capable of only drinking _one_. In fact, she was fully capable of drinking _none_. But it was Wednesday evening, and therefore "girl's night in," so she had to have at least one, after all.

"So what?" Sharon asked, topping off her own glass and then settling back against the leather love seat.

"I saw Chuck leaving your house early this morning. In a suit that was very wrinkled. He said he fell asleep on your couch after a little too much to drink. Late night?"

"Aw. What a gentleman to say so. But he _didn't_ sleep in the suit." Sharon smiled. "He did, however, leave it in a pile on my bedroom floor."

"He _was_ whistling," Tami noted.

"He should have been," Sharon said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Just because I'm nosy," Tami said, "why pick last night instead of the big Valentine's weekend?"

"I guess because it felt right last night. And maybe because he proposed."

"What!?" Tami uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to study Sharon's hand. She didn't see an engagement ring.

Sharon noticed where her eyes had fallen and said, "It was clearly an impromptu thing. I don't think he planned it. We were having dinner, and I said something that made him laugh really hard, and then suddenly he's on one knee at the kitchen table, taking my hand and saying he loves me, that's he's never felt more equally matched with a woman before, that we're like how Aristotle described love, 'a single soul inhabiting two bodies.' It was a little over the top, but he was adorable. He said he doesn't want to waste any more of his life, that he's ready to settle down, and please, _please_ would I marry him."

"And?" Tami was quite literally on the edge of her seat.

"I told him it was too soon. We've only been dating for about four months. He looked really disappointed. But…" Sharon smiled wickedly. "He wasn't disappointed by the time he left."

"I didn't see this coming."

"Me either. I told him to ask me again in a few months."

They talked for another hour. When Tami got home, Gracie was asleep and Eric was upstairs in his man cave. She went up to the loft and slid onto his lap in the recliner and draped her arms around his neck. He set the beer he'd been drinking on the end table and lowered the volume on his game, but he didn't pause or turn it off. He slid his arms around her waist. "You have a good time?" he asked.

"Chuck proposed to Sharon."

"What? I saw him today and he didn't even mention it."

She settled her head on his shoulder. "Maybe because she told him no."

Eric tensed beneath her. "Poor guy. He doesn't need another no. Odd though. He didn't seem upset when I saw him."

"Well, she only told him no _for now_. She said to ask her again in a few months. And then she, uh…took the relationship a step farther. So I think Chuck is probably happy about that."

"He's probably ecstatic about that."

"I can't believe he didn't tell you," Tami said. "Doesn't he always tell you about his conquests?"

"Sharon's not a conquest. He's head over heels for her."

"Apparently. A proposal is kind of sudden, though, don't you think?"

"Well, he's not getting any younger. He's almost Clooney's age."

Tami pulled away and peered at him curiously, but she didn't ask. Instead, she said, "You need more furniture up here. It's not very welcoming, you know, just the one recliner."

He reached down for the handle and popped the recliner open so that they fell back a little. "Oh, I don't know. Forces you to cuddle with me."

She did cuddle, half on him and half wedged in the recliner. Her leg was wrapped around his and she toyed with the hair above his neck. "Do you think I'm a functional alcoholic?"

"Screw Chuck," he said.

"Why would he say that though?"

"I don't know. He's _Chuck_. He says weird things. And people have different definitions, Tami. And you _do_ like your wine. Every night."

"Not _every_ night!"

"Pretty much."

"For one, I didn't drink _at all_ when I was pregnant with Gracie. I didn't drink _at all_ when I was nursing her either."

"Well, you pumped and dumped more than a few times."

"I recently went eighteen months without drinking _at all_, if you recall."

"I don't think you can use your time in the coma as an example."

She dropped her hand from his hair. "You _do_ think I'm an alcoholic."

"Nah. Not at all. Certainly not by _my_ definition anyway. I'm not complaining. You usually get the cheap table wine. We can afford it. You work out. You eat well. You're in good health. You rarely get drunk, and you've never driven drunk. So what's the problem if you happen to drink three bottles a week? "

"I do not drink _three bottles_ – " She paused. Three bottles was fifteen glasses, which was just _slightly_ over two glasses a day. When you considered that she drank more on weekends than she did on weekdays…well, she probably _did_ drink three bottles a week. "The problem is I don't want anyone thinking I'm an alcoholic!"

"Your mother thought your father was an alcoholic and he only had two beers a week. People are going to think what they're going to think. What do you care? I think Chuck was just joking, and even if his definition is broad enough to include you, he couldn't care less about it."

"Well I only had _one_ glass tonight at Sharon's. And from now on, I'm _only_ drinking on weekends. And on Wednesday, because it's girl's night in. Well, and the second Thursday of every month, because that's when I do happy hour with some of the teachers right after work."

Eric chuckled. He snuggled against her neck, kissed it, and whispered, "Want to fool around?"

"No, I don't want to fool around!" She slid out of the recliner. "I'm going downstairs to look over some files."

He sighed. As she was headed down the stairs, he shouted, "Sober Tami is no fun!"

She stopped midway on the stairs and turned. "Oh, you think I need _wine_ to be fun? Is that what you think?" She strode back up the stairs. "I'll show you fun." She straddled him in the recliner.

His smile was half nervous, half excited. "A'ight. Just don't bite my head off after we mate."

She reached for his belt buckle and began to unclasp it, but then she stopped. "I don't want to have sex," she said. "We just had sex last night. You know what I really want?"

"A second glass of wine?"

"Damnit!" She lowered her voice. "But yes."

"Then let's go on down together and open a bottle. I like talking to you over a glass of wine, you know."

"Do you?" she asked, and kissed him. She slid off the recliner and took his hand and tugged him into a standing position. "Or are you still just hoping to get laid?"

He turned off the game and slid an arm around her waist. "Why not both?"


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Tami let out a quiet _ugggggh!_ when the door to her office shut. She was not getting through to some of these kids. A reasonably intelligent girl had just walked out of her door, still resolved to play dumb and chase boys instead of taking a little bit of her time to pull up her grades. These moments frustrated Tami, but the small victories she made along the way helped to compensate for the many defeats.

She was digging her hand into her hair when the speaker of her office phone buzzed. "Mrs. Taylor, there's a man here in the main office who wants to see you."

The only man she could thinking of dropping by her office was Eric, but it was odd for him to make the trek in the middle of a work day. "My husband?" she asked.

"No. It's not your husband. A Dr. Thompson? Should I send him down?"

"Uh…sure," she said hesitantly, wondering why Chuck would be here.

She straightened her desk and put away some files she'd been working on until there was a knock on the door. She said, "Come in," and Chuck walked in and set a bag of Chinese food down on her desk.

He took the chair opposite hers. "Eric said you have lunch at 10:45. That's an extremely early lunch. I remember those days, back when I was teaching Logic. School schedules are absurd. And how long do they give you to eat anyway? Twenty-five minutes? I guess you can be a bit more flexible as a counselor than as a teacher." He motioned to the bag. "Chicken cashew. Eric mentioned you love chicken cashew once." How did Chuck remember all these details about people's favorite food and wine and hangover cures? "I hope I'm not violating some draconian no-nut rule. Schools these days. You never know."

"I'm allowed nuts. And thank you. But…what are you doing here?" Tami pushed the bag of Chinese food aside so she could see him better. It smelled fantastic. She'd brought a BLT and left it in the staff lounge. This was going to be a lot better.

"Oh, I only have classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This is a research day. So I don't really have to be anywhere."

Tami smiled hesitantly. "So you decided to be here? In my office? At my high school?"

"Let me cut to the chase."

"Please do."

Chuck leaned forward. "You're a very sensitive woman, Tami."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing wrong in that. Probably makes you good at your job. But I make a little joke and you take it very personally. And I'm sorry about that, but I had no ill intention at all. I do _not_ think you're a drunk. And if you did happen to be a functional alcoholic, I could care less. I like my evening bourbon myself. I'm not sure I could manage to live without it. But have I ever killed anyone? No. Have I ever even showed up late for a class? Once. Once, but that was because I had a flat tire. I don't care whether or not you might technically qualify as an alcoholic. I was just joking. And I'm sorry I didn't use my winky face."

"You came all the way to this part of town to say you were sorry for calling me an alcoholic?"

"Yes. And perhaps, additionally, to avoid having your husband punch me in the face."

"Eric would never…what?"

Chuck made a pronounced wink. "That's my winky face. For when my tone fails."

Tami laughed. "You're a strange bird, you know that?"

"I do know that. Can we be friends? I'll make it worth your while." He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a $28 bottle of Chardonnay – Tami hated that she _knew_ it was a $28 bottle of Chardonnay – and set it on her desk. The bottle sported a little red bow. "Truce?"

Tami looked over his shoulder at the closed door. She grabbed the wine, pulled it across the desk, and looked in her handbag. "I don't know if I can fit it in there. And I can't be seen around school with this."

Chuck took the wine back and put it back in his briefcase. "I'll drop it off at your house when I stop at Sharon's tonight."

"You're spending a lot of time over there."

"Did she tell you? About my ridiculous proposal?"

"She…" Tami shook her head and chuckled slightly. "I don't think she thought it was ridiculous."

"Well it wasn't very persuasive, apparently. But I'm still on the short list." He snapped his briefcase closed. "You two are friends. If I _were_ to ask again in, say, five months, do you think she'd say yes?"

"Chuck…I don't know. I can't tell you that. Only she can tell you that."

He sighed. Then he stood. "Enjoy your lunch."

**[*]**

Eric still recognized every one of his boys by voice. Vince's tone and accent was unmistakable on the phone when he said, "Hey, Coach Taylor, sorry to disturb you so close to lunchtime."

"Not a problem at all, Vince," he said. "What can I do you for?"

"I uh…I met Jess for lunch last week."

"Did you now?" Eric said, as though he didn't know anything about that. Jess had told him, of course, that they were meeting up in Killeen, which was about halfway between the San Angelo and College Station.

"She's really settling in there at SAEU. Has a lot of good things to say about it. She looked…good."

Eric scratched his head. In Dillon, he had never been unaware of the highs and lows of the teen romances that went on around him, though he pretended to be. He didn't want to get involved in any of that, but he also knew that performance in _that_ field affected performance on the _football_ field, so he typically knew more about those teen dramas than he let on. And what he thought he knew about Vince was that the kid had never really stopped loving Jess. The tone in the young man's voice now only verified Coach Taylor's suspicion. He felt a little guilty for using Jess as bait. He hadn't meant to, not consciously, but he realized now that he had, and that it was wrong to toy with Vince that way. "Yeah," he said, "she's seeing my punter." If he threw that out there, Eric couldn't accuse himself of letting Jess lead Vince on.

"That Wilson guy?" Vince asked. "Nah. She said she's decided he's a jerk, and she's not going out with anyone on the team ever again. She said it's unprofessional anyway."

"Ah." Coach Taylor leaned back in his chair.

Vince had come a long way, leading the Panthers his senior year, earning halfway decent grades, and receiving a scholarship to A&M. He was on the bench much of the time his first year, though, as QB2. Of course, when the current QB graduated, Eric did not doubt Vince would step into the star role. But Eric knew it was hard for a young man to fall from former glory to the sidelines, even for a while, and he could use that. "You get much playtime over there on the Aggies last season?"

"Not as much as I'd like," Vince said.

"If you were on a Division II team, of course you'd be the star, in the spotlight all the time."

"I want to make it to the NFL though. Who watches Division II games?"

Eric coughed slightly.

"No offense, Coach."

"Twelve Division II players got invited to the NFL Scouting Combine last year."

"And how many Division I players?"

"Those numbers aren't the point, Vince. The point is – the big fish in the small pond gets noticed before the medium-sized fish in the big pond." Of course, the medium-size fish would grow into a big fish in short order. Vince would have his moment to shine on the Aggies. Eric knew that, but he couldn't help wanting the boy for his own team. Still, he wasn't supposed to be having this conversation. He switched topics. "So how are you? You declare a major yet over there?"

"Coach, you don't have to change the subject. I got permission to contact. That's why I'm calling you. My mama's sick. And San Angelo is almost four hours closer to Dillon than College Station. Spring training starts in a few days, so if I'm going to make plans to transfer, I better start making them now, and let my coach know where I'm going to be next fall. So give me your pitch. And don't leave anything out."

Eric leaned forward on his desk. He forgot about his goals for a moment. "Your mama's sick? What's that mean?" Was she back on drugs again?

Vince took a shaky breath. "She's clean. She's been clean for a while, which is why this seems so unfair, only finding out about this now. She…" Vince choked.

A tangled rush of fear, sympathy, awkwardness, and compassion shot through Eric's body. Part of him wished he could be with Vince in person as the boy spoke these words, and part of him was relieved that he didn't have to react to this news in person, because he didn't know what the hell to do or say.

"Coach, she's got HIV."

"Oh, Jesus, Vince." Eric didn't think about his words. They came out like a sigh. "Oh, Jesus. I'm sorry."

"And I just feel like I need to be nearer to her. I don't know how many years she's got or what kind of help she's going to need. I just found out yesterday."

"I'm so very sorry."

"So what can SAEU offer me?"


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:** Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I haven't had time to write. So I'm throwing in a brief interlude until I can get the rest of the story developed.

**Chapter 35**

Gracie was reading on the couch when Eric came home. He dropped his keys and cap on the kitchen counter. Tami immediately began talking to him about her day. "And they say they don't want to take away more than a class period for the college fair, but how are these kids supposed to explore all their options in fifty-five minutes? It's absolutely ridiculous. Eric! Are you even listening to me? This is important to me."

He glanced at Gracie, put an arm on Tami's shoulder, and led her into the adjacent mostly closed off dining room. "Vince's mom has HIV."

"What?"

"He just called me today to tell me. He wants to get onto the Saints so he can be closer to her. I think…I think you're going to have some counseling to do when he gets here."

Tami put a hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned close to her, and she took him in her arms. "He doesn't deserve this," Eric said.

"When will he transfer?"

"Well it's mid-semester, so it's tricky. He's looking into a hardship transfer. If he can get permission, he'll come over, do spring training with me, but not really take any classes until the fall. He'll basically lose a semester."

"We should have him over for dinner when he gets here," Tami said, "Him and Jess both, I think."

He pulled her into his arms. "I was hoping you'd say that. You always know what to do and say. I don't know what to say to him."

She sighed. "Poor kid."

"Are you still not drinking on weekdays?" he asked her. "Or do you want to split a bottle of wine? Because _I_ need a drink tonight."

"I think this is a reasonable exception to my new rule, sugar."

[*]

Eric forgot his worries for an evening, his fear for Vince's suffering, his stress over the upcoming spring training. He'd missed this reliable relief from the weight of life when Tami was in the coma all those months. He'd turned to Chuck sometimes to talk off his stress, but it wasn't the same. There was no one he could be as honest with as Tami. And of course, Tami had other virtues Chuck lacked…

Eric's face flushed from the wine as Tami leaned back against his chest now. His arm went around her shoulders and her body felt perfect against his, a comforting weight. He held his wine glass with one hand and twirled a strand of her long hair around his finger with another.

He'd looked at her shell in that coma every time he'd visited, but it hadn't been her, not her as he knew her, like this, vibrant, alive, a twinkle in her eye and a glimmer in her smile and still, after all these years, breathtakingly beautiful to him. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I love you."

Tami leaned forward and set her wine glass on the coffee table, and he set his own on the end table. She returned to him, this time turning her body to face him and kissing his lips gently. She tasted of salt and wine as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth and persuaded her to deepen the kiss.

He rested a hand on her waist and let it slide very slowly upwards. He never knew if a kiss like this was an "I love you but I'm ready to go to sleep kiss" or a "green light for sex" kiss. Any deep kiss was to him an engraved invitation, but he'd been shot down enough times on the follow through to know she didn't always see it that way. So when he began to stroke her breast through the silky fabric of her blouse, he was ready for the possibility that she might move his hand. Instead she murmured against his lips and shifted herself against his fingers. He made a lazy circle around her nipple, and her murmur became a moan.

He pulled away, breathing hard, his forehead pressed to hers. "Want to fool around?" he asked.

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"I…."

She laughed, kissed his lips once, and said, "Take me to bed, Eric."

He loved how responsive she was as she straddled him in bed, the blanket fallen to her hips, her nude body exposed fully to his admiring gaze. He loved the way she threw herself into his touch and spoke her pleasure with sighs and murmurs and moans and, eventually, a shout that she bent to muffle against his shoulder. He flipped her onto her back when the pleasurable shivering finished shooting through her frame, and whispered, "My turn now?"

"Eric," she told him, her voice raspy from her own pleasure, "I want to make you come."

It didn't take long.

As he lay on his back recovering, she settled against his chest and pulled up the blanket. "We've been having a lot of sex lately," she observed.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with that."

She giggled, her breath hot against his flesh, and he smiled. "Making up for lost time still, I guess?" she asked. "I wasn't conscious of it like you, but I guess…I don't know. You've been eager lately. And it's kind of sexy."

Eric raised an eyebrow, "Yeah? You didn't used to think so. Used to annoy you when I was eager."

"No it didn't," she insisted. "Well…sometimes. I don't know. Maybe it's a turn on to know you were celibate for so long, that you were waiting for me…and that you want me as badly as you do."

He turned on his side and looked her in the eyes. "I've always wanted you badly, Tami. I just…maybe sometimes I took you for granted."

"It happens, after years and years. I'm sure I've done the same." She kissed him. "I love you, Eric. I'm glad you're mine."

He closed his eyes and snuggled his head into the pillow. "All yours," he murmured.

"You're going to sleep already, aren't you?"

"No," he said, but those were the last words he heard.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

"I'm working on my toast for your renewal," Chuck said the moment Eric settled into the booth across from him.

Eric had agreed to meet Chuck for lunch at the Drunken Dwarf. He didn't usually do more than wolf down a sandwich during spring training, but he felt like he needed a drink today, and how. He'd talked the school into giving Vince Howard a full ride and as many incentives as they could get away with, and today the kid had been a mess on the field, throwing short, not listening to the coaches, practically tripping over his own feet. He'd kept looking at Jess, too, as though he was confused by her role as something more than a shadow, and it was clear she was embarrassed for him.

Coach Taylor's offensive coordinator had eventually drawn him aside and said, "I thought you could vouch for this kid. What the hell, Eric?"

Eric hadn't known what to tell him. He didn't want to mention that Vince's mother had AIDs, which was what Eric thought was distracting him more than Jess was. That was a private matter, and it was Eric's job to ensure that Vince did well regardless of his life circumstances. But he was afraid he'd made a mistake taking Vince on at a time like this. A mid-semester transfer was practically unheard of, and he'd had to move a mountain to get Vince here for training. The kid wasn't actually enrolled in any classes yet – he wouldn't be until the fall – but they were letting him train anyway. After spring training, he'd be going back to live with and look after his mom until summer training started.

"Our renewal is three months away," Eric told Chuck now, "why are you worried about that?"

A pretty, young blonde waitress put a napkin down in front of him and smiled. Eric tried to guess if she was an undergraduate student or a graduate student. He was too old to tell the difference anymore. She looked about Julie's age, though. He'd guess she was a college senior. "Scotch please," he said. "Neat."

She bounced off, and Chuck asked him, "Not bourbon? I thought I'd thoroughly converted you."

"I need a scotch flavored drink this afternoon."

Chuck invited him to unload his concerns, and he did, concluding, "Vince is coming for dinner tomorrow night. Maybe Tami can work her magic and help him to get some peace of mind so he can actually prove to my offensive coordinator that I didn't make the wrong move."

The waitress set down Eric's scotch and he took a drink with a hiss.

"Speaking of Tami," Chuck said, "is she still frustrated with her new job?"

"Yeah. Still complains about it every night she comes home. Principal blocking this idea, principal blocking that idea. She's already talking about looking for a new job. I feel for her, I do, but sometimes you just have to suck it up, work within the system. You can't buck against it all the time. I don't buck against it all the time. There's a hundred things I'd like to see change about the way college football is done, but I just concentrate on doing what I can to improve the character of my boys and to win games, and I let other people worry about the system." He shook his head. "I just wish she was happy with her job."

"Well, it would make you feel less guilty if she was."

Eric set his scotch glass down. A small ring remained at the bottom of the glass. "Guilty? About what?"

"Well, you moved on and that tied her down. She slipped into a coma as the soon-to-be Dean of Admissions of an almost ivy, on the cusp of a grand new adventure, no doubt extremely proud of herself, and she woke up chained to a minor city in Texas with a pathetic job market and a sub-par public school system."

"What was I supposed to do? I had to support Gracie and pay the hospital bills and - "

" - I know that. She knows that. You know that. But deep down," Chuck raised his pint of beer and pointed at him, "You feel guilty about it anyway."

Eric sighed. "I just wish she could be content with this job. She used to be content as just a mother and wife. For over a decade. What am I supposed to do? Encourage her to apply all over the country, be ready to move for whatever dream job she gets? I have a steady job. It pays plenty. More than I've ever earned in my life." Although, he was wondering if he was still going to have it in a year if Vince didn't pan out.

Chuck shrugged. "If she's not going to find fulfillment at work, maybe it's time for her to stimulate her mind. She has big dreams, but she only has a B.A."

"What are you suggesting?"

"SAEU has a fairly decent combined M.A./Ph.D. program in psychology. "

"Ph.D.'s are expensive."

"You just said you make plenty of money. Besides, she can be a T.A. while she does it and probably get a large portion of her tuition waived. And think about it, she'll be happy because she's learning new things and coming up with new dreams. It could give her a sense of direction for her career. She's still adrift because of the sea change she woke up to. She went back to what she did before, looking for an anchor, but do you think that's working for her?"

"No." Tami had thrown herself into the job, but she never seemed to get anywhere with her plans. He'd done a lot of handholding these past several weeks. He almost thought she was trying too hard. She was new to the job, and she should just let herself get settled first. But he didn't dare tell her that. He could tell Tami wasn't satisfied, but when was she ever satisfied at work? And she'd just _started_ the job. "How realistic is it, though, to think that's going to prepare her for anything? Aren't Ph.D.'s a dime a dozen these days? It doesn't mean she can just walk into some – "

" – Even if she never actually does anything with the degree, earning it will keep her happy for at least four years."

"I've already got one kid in private school. I hardly need my wife in private school too."

"I told you she can T.A. You'll end up paying a couple thousand a year, tops."

"Well, that and the entire salary she _won't_ be earning as a full-time guidance counselor."

"You told her you didn't need a second income when she started talking about going back to work."

Eric scratched his forehead beneath his cap. He didn't have to take his cap off when he sat down at a table with Chuck the way he did when he sat down with Tami. "Where is this idea even coming from?"

Chuck smiled as if he was dwelling on a pleasant memory. "Pillow talk. Something Sharon said to me last night about something Tami said to her. Tami said she wished she'd gone further with her schooling back when she was a stay-at-home mom, taken a few classes at least."

"Yeah, she's mentioned that before," Eric admitted.

"I'm just trying to be a good friend. You could perhaps score some points suggesting it to her. She's probably thought about going back to school but figured it would just mean a fight with her tight-fisted husband."

"I'm not tight-fisted."

"You're a veritable Silas Marner."

Eric didn't ask who that was.

"Listen," Chuck continued, "it would give her something else to do other than a job she hates, _and_ it would keep her in San Angelo like you want. She'd feel like she was going forward instead of going backward."

"What if I lose my job and have to find one somewhere else? She'll be in the middle of a Ph.D. program. She won't want to move."

Chuck smirked. "Then don't lose your job."

"Says the man with tenure."

Chuck leaned back as the waitress set a pizza on the table and disappeared. "I already ordered this for us," he told Eric. "Figured you'd be in a hurry to get back to training. Hope you don't mind."

"Why not? You're telling me how to handle my wife, why not order my food for me too while you're at it?"

"You'll thank me later." Chuck pulled off a slice and set it on his plate.

Eric took a slice of the pizza and tried not to look like he was enjoying it too much, even though the Drunken Dwarf had fantastic, meat-laden slices.

Chuck reached down below the table and then set an SAEU brochure and a course catalogue on the table. "Why don't you share those with Tami. I could really use a good T.A. next semester for my Philosophy of Psychology class."


	37. Chapter 37

Eric stood in his driveway with his arms crossed over his chest as he nodded goodbye to Vince and Jess. He noticed that Vince opened the car door for the young woman, which gave him some small hope for the future of humanity. Sometimes he thought men didn't know how to be men anymore.

Over dinner, Jess and Vince had fallen into an easy familiarity, teasing one another in those few moments when Vince didn't seem morose or distracted. Maybe Jess was better medicine even than Tami's sage counseling. Not that Eric wanted the two to become involved again; it could prove an inconvenience for him to have his quarterback and his college assistant romantically entangled. But he was glad to see Vince laugh from time to time this evening, because he hadn't seen the young man smile since spring training had started.

"Y'all don't be strangers, now," Tami told them as Vince backed the car, windows down, out of the driveway.

After Eric put Gracie to bed, he settled onto the couch next to Tami with a long sigh. She handed him a glass of bourbon and then grabbed her own wine.

He peered at her over the rim of his glass. "I thought you weren't drinking on weekdays anymore."

Her eyes twinkled, like snowflakes against a winter blue backdrop. He never got tired of those eyes. "I've decided I'd be too perfect without at least one vice."

"You could have chosen lust." He put a hand on her knee and began to slide it up under her skirt.

She slapped his hand away, but then she took it in her own and squeezed. "How do you think that dinner went?" she asked.

"Your lasagna is fantastic."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

Vince had seemed surprised, embarrassed, and pleased when Jess showed up to join them. Eric had forgotten to mention to his newest quarterback that he was also inviting his college assistant to the meal. Despite the presence of a pretty, familiar face, however, Vince had sometimes lost the thread of the conversation and gazed absently over Eric's shoulder. Tami had drawn the quarterback outside, feigning to need his help with moving a bench in the backyard.

"You tell me," Eric said now. "You're the one who talked to him."

"He's not sure whether or not to try to contact his father and tell him about his mom being sick. He could probably use some advice on that from you."

"From _me_? What did _you_ say?"

"I said I understood that was a very difficult decision for him to make and that there was no right answer. I also recommended he seek regular counseling while he's dealing with this stress. Eric, this may not have been the best time to pin your hopes of a championship on him."

"_He_ wanted to be closer to home. _He_ called me."

She sighed. "I know. But he's distracted, and he feels guilty about being distracted. He feels all that pressure from you."

"Well I'm under a lot of pressure here, babe. My contract will be up for renewal. And I vouched for him. I put my reputation on the line for him. I got him a really good package, Tami."

"I know. But maybe you should let him know that you care about him as _more_ than a player."

Eric swallowed. "What am I supposed to say, exactly?"

She lay a head on his shoulder and snuggled in. "I don't know, hon. You'll figure it out. You always do. You're no slouch with words."

He kissed her head softly. "I love you. I've said you're my anchor before, but you know, you're more than that. You don't just keep me rooted. You push me in the right direction. I'm grateful for that. I was lost at sea without you. I missed you."

She turned slightly and kissed his ear. "See? Not a slouch."

He smiled, "Want to go fool around?"

"Not until you come up with a more eloquent invitation. I have high expectations now."

He threw his head back on the couch, and she laughed and brought her wine to her lips.

"You ever think about going back to school for your doctorate?" he asked.

The wine glass clinked on the end table next to Tami. "Where did that question come from?"

He turned and searched her eyes. "Chuck wants a good T.A."

"_Chuck_ wants a good T.A.?"

"_I_ want you to be happy. He said Sharon said you said something about it."

"Maybe you should try communicating directly with me instead of playing phone tag through Chuck."

"What do you thinking I'm doing right now?"

She nodded and chuckled. "Yeah. Okay. I guess you are."

"So?"

"I've thought about applying to SAEU this fall. I've thought maybe I'd like to go deeper than my psychology degree and my counseling certification allowed me to." She toyed with her engagement ring. "You ever notice that I tend to butt heads with the administration?"

"Never noticed that," he said. "I always thought you were the poster child for quiet submission."

She pushed him against the shoulder and he drew away. Tami put her bare feet up in his lap, and he took the not so subtle hint and began to rub them. "Well," she said, "sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't do better if I went into business for myself. Then I'd have no one to butt heads with."

"Chuck seemed to think you were thinking of becoming a professor one day."

"No. I'm thinking of starting a private counseling practice one day."

Eric stopped rubbing her feet. This was entirely new to him. "You've always been in the education field, babe. I thought you wanted to make your mark there."

"Eric, I used to think my future was in educational administration, but every time I make a move _toward_ that, something happens to mess it up, and I always end up counseling again. It's like God is smacking me down a particular path and I keep ignoring it and trying to go back on the other path. When I tried to be a principal, I got involved in all that ruckus and had to quit. When I tried to be a dean, I went into a coma."

"God damn well better not have taken you from me for eighteen months just to push you in the right career direction."

"Good Lord." She waved a hand. "That's not what I meant. I just mean I think that maybe my path really _is_ counseling. I know I've sometimes seem dissatisfied with my counseling jobs, but I think that's just because I want to go deeper. And I want to be in charge."

He ran a hand from her foot, up over her bare leg, across her knee, and rested it so that his fingertips were just below her skirt. He lowered his voice. "I can help you go deeper and let you be in charge."

Tami shook her head, swung her feet out of his lap, and turned to lean back against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I thought you'd freak out when I mentioned wanting to go back to school," she said. "But you seem…surprisingly calm."

"Good. I've been practicing. Glad I pulled it off. Really, though, I'm wondering how in the hell we're going to pay for that. Gracie's in private school. We're still building her college fund. Hell, we're still giving Julie a little money for college. And now we're talking about tuition for you and then whatever start-up expenses you're going to need when you start your practice."

"Julie will be done with college this semester, and we haven't been helping her _that_ much. She's got that partial scholarship and she's been earning her own money too. Gracie is super smart, and I think she can probably manage to get at least some scholarship money. And I can probably get a partial tuition waiver if I T.A."

"What if my contract doesn't get renewed?"

"It will."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then if I have to transfer so you can move for a new job, I'll transfer. You'll always have a coaching job _somewhere_. You're too good not to. And as for the start-up costs for my practice, that's years in the future. Why do you have to worry about any of this now?"

He closed his eyes. "I have to worry about everything that could happen before it happens. I have to have all my potential plays in mind and be able to respond in an instant when the field changes. It's what makes me a good coach."

She kissed his cheek. "It makes you a pretty good husband too. But sometimes you just need to _relax_, sugar. Because all that worrying and contingency planning isn't the _only_ thing that makes you a good coach. It's your passion for the game and your love for those boys that _really_ makes you a good coach. And it's your passion and love that really makes you a good husband." She kissed the edge of his mouth and he smiled beneath her lips. "Want to head to bed and show me some of that love and passion?" she whispered.


	38. Chapter 38

Eric invested time in Vince beyond the regular spring training hours, not just by coaching him but by sitting on the bleachers beside him and listening and advising.

"I just don't know if I want my dad back in my life," Vince told him one day, as the sun had begun to set over the SAEU stadium, casting shadows on the field. "But my mother asked me to find him, so she'd have a chance to say goodbye. And I found out where he is now…in Midland…and I just want to pretend I didn't find him."

"I understand your feelings on that," Eric told him.

"What do you think I should do?"

Eric scratched his head. "I didn't have quite as bad a relationship with my dad as you do with yours. He was at least around. He was there until I was out of the house. But we had a pretty big fight and a falling out after he and my mom divorced. I was eighteen at the time. He really didn't have much of anything to do with her – or me – after that. When my mom was dying of cancer seven years later, I thought I should tell him, so I found him living with some woman in Houston. We ended up fighting again. He went to see her once. I have no idea how that went. He paid the hospital bills. I didn't have much money at the time. I had a wife and a young kid, and I was just starting out."

"Well my dad isn't going to be paying any bills. That's for damn sure."

"My point is…I don't know what my point is, son. You gotta do what you feel is best. I don't regret telling him, but it wasn't as if it was some redemption story either."

In the end, Vince did tell his father, but the man shrugged off the news. "That woman hasn't wanted nut'n to do with me for years," he said. "Why should I have anything to do with her just because she's dying?"

By the end of spring training, Vince had regained focus. He demonstrated his potential to Eric's fellow coaches, and his assistants finally stopped questioning his judgment.

Eric observed that Vince and Jess had begun dating in April, but he said nothing of the matter other than to tell Jess that things had better remain professional on the field.

"We're not in high school anymore," Jess told him.

Vince returned to Dillon to be with his mother in May, and Eric plodded through the rest of the off-season, praying that his quarterback's mother was still going strong when the fall season kicked off.

Tami finished out the school year as a counselor, but she prepared her application for SAEU's combined M.A./Ph.D. psychology program at the same time and stayed up late studying for her GRE's. Eric took her out for a nice dinner when her scores came, and Chuck told her, "You did better than I did. Can't wait to have you as my T.A."

When the last day of high school rolled around, Tami put Gracie Belle to bed, kissing her big girl's forehead, and saying, "I can't believe you're going to be in first grade next year." Except she could believe it. Gracie was reading on a third grade level now. But time sure did fly, especially when you missed a year and a half of your girl's life.

"It's okay, Mom," Gracie told her. "You can still have tea parties with me. If you bring cookies."

Tami settled onto the couch next to Eric, who was reading Malcolm Gladwell's _Blink_. She snatched it from his hands, slid the dust jacket in as a bookmark, and set it on the coffee table.

"I was reading that."

"You already know the value of split-second decisions, sugar. We need to talk about our renewal. It's coming up in a couple of weeks. I still haven't picked out my dress."

"How is that my problem?"

She turned her head slowly and leveled her eyes at him.

"What I meant to say was…how can I help?"

Tami put her head against her hand and leaned her elbow on the back of the couch. "I want it to be formal, but not too formal. This is a renewal. Not a wedding. Did you get another groomsman yet? I've got Julie, Shelley, and Sharon. You need more than Matt and Chuck."

"I'm going to call Buddy tomorrow."

"Sugar, that's awfully short notice."

"He RSVPed. He's planning to be there anyway."

"Yes, but he needs to get a _good_ suit."

"You said you didn't want this to be too formal."

She put a hand on the back of his neck and ran her fingertips lightly over his hair. "You know you're wearing a tuxedo, though, right?"

"A tux? I don't have a tux."

"Obviously you'll have to rent one."

He sighed.

"I mean, how often do I get to see you in one?" She leaned in and kissed his cheek and sung, "'Cause every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man."

He smiled and closed his eyes as she began to trail her kisses from his cheek to his neck.


End file.
